


Storm and Strife

by pretendmulling (tenderlumpling)



Series: The Chase Series [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Family, Family Secrets, Gen, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Pregnancy, Rape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-25
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2017-11-10 16:36:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 42,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/468408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenderlumpling/pseuds/pretendmulling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In 1994, Chase Carter and Harry Potter were chosen by the Goblet of Fire to compete in the Triwizard Tournament. It promises fame and eternal glory, but no one ever said those came cheap. Meanwhile, Severus Snape must confront his past and decide where his loyalties lie. AU, canon events with non-canon characters.</p><p>First chapter contains passages taken directly from "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire".</p><p>WARNING!!! Chapter Ten will contain a graphic torture and rape scene. If that kind of thing bothers you, PLEASE DO NOT READ.</p><p>Originally posted at my FF.Net account, PretendMulling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chosen

Chase Carter walked into the trophy room just off the Great Hall. Just a moment before, she had been chosen by the Goblet of Fire as the Hogwarts champion for the Triwizard Tournament, and she was still absorbing the news.  _ Me? Hogwarts champion? _ was the only thought running through her head.

To anyone but herself, Chase's selection wasn't all that implausible. She was a prefect, she had scored Outstanding on all of her nine O.W.L.s, and was poised to score Outstanding on her upcoming eight N.E.W.T.s . True, she could attribute some of this to being raised by one of the Hogwarts professors, Severus Snape, but Chase would point out that it had more to do with his refusal to not let her do her homework than any real advantage.  _Still,_ she thought, stopping in front of the fireplace and gazing into the hearth,  _it's nice not to have a Gryffindor champion._ She didn't really begrudge Gryffindor House its fame, but thought things had been rather skewed in Gryffindor's favor ever since Harry Potter had come to Hogwarts.

"What is it?" Fleur Delacour, the Beauxbatons champion, said suddenly. "Do zey want us back in ze Hall?"

Chase turned around. Fleur had been speaking to none other than Harry Potter. Harry just stood there, looking at Chase, Fleur, and Viktor Krum, the Durmstrang champion. Chase was struck by how short Harry was. She wasn't exactly tall, but Harry had to be a head and neck shorter than she was.

A sound of rushing feet caused all four of them to look at the door. Next moment, Ludo Bagman had entered the room, took Harry by the arm, and led him forward.

"Extraordinary!" he said. "Absolutely extraordinary! Ladies, gentleman, may I introduce -incredible thought it may seem- the  _fourth_ Triwizard champion!"

Viktor Krum straightened up, his face darkening as he surveyed Harry, looking from Bagman to Harry as though there had been some mistake.

Fleur tossed her hair, smiling, and said, "Oh, vairy funny joke, Meester Bagman."

"Joke?" Bagman repeated, bewildered. "No, no, not at all! Harry's name just came out of the Goblet of Fire."

Chase kept her face impassive as she looked from Harry to Bagman, but anger and jealousy had flared in her.  _Great. Once again, Potter the Magnificent comes to steal the glory._

_Wait a minute..._ "Mr. Bagman, that doesn't make any sense," Chase said.

"Evidently zair 'as been a mistake," Fleur said contemptuously. "'E cannot compete. 'E is too young."

"Well... It is amazing," Bagman said, rubbing his chin and smiling down at Harry. "But, as you know, the age restriction was only imposed this year as an extra safety measure. And as his name's come out of the goblet... I mean, I don't think there can be any ducking out at this stage... It's down in the rules, you're obliged... Harry will just have to do the best he-"

The door behind them opened again, and a large group of people came in: Professor Dumbledore, followed closely by Mr. Crouch, Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Snape. McGonagall closed the door behind her, shutting out the sounds of the students in the Great Hall.

"Madame Maxime!" Fleur said at once, striding over to her. "Zey are saying zat zis little boy is to compete also!"

Chase thought she saw Harry's face twitch in annoyance. She couldn't blame him; "little boy" was rather patronizing.

Madame Maxime had drawn herself up to her full, and considerable, height. "What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr?" she asked imperiously, her satin-swathed bosom swelling.

"I'd rather like to know that myself, Dumbledore," Karkaroff said. He was wearing a steely smile, and his blue eyes were chips of ice. " _Two_ Hogwarts champions? I don't remember anyone telling me the host school is allowed two champions- or have I not read the rules carefully enough?" He gave a short, nasty laugh.

" _C'est impossible_ ," said Madam Maxime, her hand resting on Fleur's shoulder. "'Ogwarts cannot have two champions. It is most unjust."

"We were under the impression that your Age Line would keep out younger contestants, Dumbledore," said Karkaroff. "Otherwise, we would, of course, have brought along a wider selection of champions from our own schools."

"It is no one's fault but Potter's, Karkaroff," Severus said softly. Chase noticed that his eyes were alight with malice. "Don't go blaming Dumbledore for Potter's determination to break rules. He has been crossing lines ever since he arrived here-"

"That will do, Severus," said Dumbledore firmly.

Severus went quiet, and Chase shot him a hard look. He raised an eyebrow at her. She nodded toward Dumbledore and Harry.

"Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire, Harry?" Dumbledore asked calmly.

"No," Harry said.

Severus made an impatient noise of disbelief.

"Did you ask an older student to put it into the Goblet of Fire for you?" Dumbledore asked, ignoring Severus.

" _No_ ," said Harry vehemently.

"Ah, but of course 'e is lying!" cried Madam Maxime. Chase saw her uncle shake his head, his lip curling.

"He could not have crossed the Age Line, I am sure we are all agreed on that-" Professor McGonagall started.

"Dumbly-dorr must 'ave made a mistake wiz ze line," said Maxime, shrugging.

"It is possible, of course," said Dumbledore politely.

"Dumbledore, you know perfectly well you did not make a mistake!" said Professor McGonagall angrily. "Really, what nonsense! Harry could not have crossed the line himself, and as Professor Dumbledore believes that he did not persuade an older student to do it for him, I'm sure that should be good enough for everybody else!" She shot a very angry look at Severus.

"Mr. Crouch... Mr. Bagman," Karkaroff said in an oily voice. "You are our -er- objective judges. Surely, you will agree that this is most irregular?"

_Understatement of the decade,_ Chase thought drily.

Bagman wiped his face and looked at Mr. Crouch, who spoke in his usual curt voice.

"We must follow the rules, and the rules state clearly that those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the tournament."

"Well, Barty knows the rule book back to front," Bagman said, beaming and turning to Maxime and Karkaroff. He plainly thought the matter was closed.

"I insist upon resubmitting the names of the rest of my students," Karkaroff said, and he neither sounded nor looked anything like friendly anymore. "You will set up the Goblet of Fire once more, and we will continue adding names until each school has only two champions. It is only fair, Dumbledore."

"But Karkaroff, it doesn't work like that," said Bagman. "The Goblet of Fire's just gone out -it won't reignite until the start of the next tournament-"

"In which Durmstrang will most certainly not be competing!" exploded Karkaroff. "After all of our meetings and negotiations and compromises, I little expected something of this nature to occur! I have half a mind to leave now!"

"Empty threat, Karkaroff," growled Moody. He had just entered the room, and from Chase's vantage point he was half in the shadows.. "You can't leave your champion now. He's got to compete. They've all got to compete. Binding magical contract, like Dumbledore said. "Convenient, eh?" He started toward the fireplace, a loud  _clunk_ of his wooden leg on the stone floor on each alternate step.

"Convenient?" Karkaroff said, trying to sound disdainful. "I'm afraid I don't understand you, Moody."

"Don't you?" Moody said softly. "It's very simple, Karkaroff. Someone put Potter's name in that goblet, knowing he'd have to compete if it came out."

Chase thought about this. "But why would anyone want his name to come out?"

" _Obviously_ , someone wished to give 'Ogwarts two bites at ze apple!" said Maxime, looking down contemptuously at Chase.

"I quite agree, Madam Maxime," said Karkaroff, bowing to her. "I shall be lodging complaints with the Ministry of Magic and the International Confederation of Wizards-"

"But  _why_ ?" Chase asked again. "Hogwarts has turned out Triwizard champions before, and as far as I know something like this has never happened. Why now, of all the times for it to happen, and why  _Harry Potter_ ?"

Moody looked at her; though his face was hidden in the shadows, she thought he was giving her an approving look. "Carter's got the right idea," he said. Then he turned to Severus. "Bright girl you raised, Snape."

Severus merely jerked his head.

"And if anyone's got reason to complain, it's Potter," Moody growled to the group at large. "But, funny thing, I don't hear  _him_ saying a word..."

"Why should 'e complain?" burst out Fleur Delacour, stamping her foot. "'E 'as ze chance to compete, 'asn't 'e? We 'ave all been 'oping to be chosen for weeks and weeks! Ze honor for our schools! A thousand Galleons in prize money- zis is a chance many would die for!"

"Maybe someone's hoping Potter  _is_ going to die for it," said Moody.

Chase's head snapped up at this. She knew Moody was paranoid, not always someone to take seriously... But she knew about the Dark Mark appearing at the Quidditch World Cup. She had also caught Severus rubbing his left forearm as though it burned him. She suspected he'd been a Death Eater in his younger days, and if her suspicions were correct, his Dark Mark was bothering him. Maybe Moody was onto something... She tuned out the rest of the discussion until she heard Dumbledore speaking again.

"How this situation arose, we do not know," Dumbledore said to everyone in the room. "It seems to me, however, that we have no choice but to accept it. Both Chase and Harry have been chosen to compete in the tournament. This, therefore, they will do..."

"Ah, but Dumbly-dorr-"

"My dear Madame Maxime, if you have an alternative, I would be delighted to hear it."

Dumbledore waited, but Madame Maxime only glared. Chase saw that Severus, as well, looked furious, and so did Karkaroff. Bagman, however, looked rather excited.

"Well, shall we crack on, then?" He said, rubbing his hands together and smiling around the room. "Got to give our Champions their instructions, haven't we? Barty, want to do the honors?"

"Yes," Crouch said, as though he'd just woken from a deep sleep. "Yes... the first task..." It could have been the light, but Chase thought Crouch looked ill.

"The first task is designed to test your daring," he told the champions, "so we are not going to be telling you what it is. Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard... Very important...

"The first task will take place on November the twenty-fourth, in front of the other students and a panel of judges.

"The champions are not permitted to accept help of any kind from their teachers to complete the tasks in the tournament. The champions will face the first task armed only with their wands. They will receive information about the second task when the first is over. Owing to the demanding and time-consuming nature of the tournament, the champions are exempted from end-of-year tests."

He turned to Dumbledore. "I think that's it, Albus?"

"I think so..."

Chase pulled out her wand and looked at it, thinking hard.  _Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard_ ... She didn't disagree. She only wondered how the first task would be kept a secret at Hogwarts, where everything  _and_ the walls had ears. And was Moody right about why Harry's name had come out of the Goblet of Fire? Was someone trying to kill him? She looked over at Harry, suddenly ashamed of her previous anger toward him. He hadn't asked for this, and she could tell by the look on his face that he hadn't wanted it, either.  _Poor kid,_ she thought.

"Harry, Chase, I suggest you go up to bed," Dumbledore said, snapping Chase out of her reverie. In spite of the harsh words of the night, Dumbledore was smiling at them. "I am sure Gryffindor and Ravenclaw are waiting to celebrate with you, and it would be a shame to deprive them of this excellent excuse to make a great deal of mess and noise."

Harry glanced at Chase. She nodded, and they left the trophy room together, neither speaking on the way back, until they reached the staircase leading to Gryffindor Tower.

"Er... See you around, Chase," Harry said.

Chase nodded, then continued toward the West Tower. Truth be told, she didn't feel like partying tonight. What she really wanted was to talk to Severus and ask him what the hell was going on.

_Why not?_ She thought, and turned toward a shortcut to the dungeons.

"What are you doing here?" Severus hissed at her fifteen minutes later, when he answered his office door.

"Nice to see you too, dear uncle," Chase said. She entered the room and sat down in the chair behind Severus's desk. "I want to know what the hell is going on."

"If Dumbledore doesn't know, I don't," he said, as though that solved everything.

"All right, let me be more specific: Were you ever a Death Eater?"

She'd hit on something. Severus turned to her, his eyes blazing. "Why do you want to know?"

"Why have you been rubbing your left forearm lately?"

"It's none of your business."

"Let me see it, then."

"Absolutely not."

"Severus, it's not like I'm asking you to show me your willy," Chase said, smirking. "It's your  _arm,_ that's all."

"And it is  _none of your business_ ," he snarled.

Chase stood up then and strode over to him. She grabbed his left wrist and pulled up the sleeve.

"You insolent brat!" He snapped, jerking his arm away, but not before Chase had seen the faint, grayish outline of a Dark Mark.

"So you were a Death Eater," she said calmly. Chase was too used to her uncle's attitude to be upset by it.

"Yes," he growled, pulling the sleeve down over the ugly tattoo. "When I left school, I joined."

"Severus, do you think Moody's right? About someone being out to get Potter, I mean."

"I don't know," he said. "And if you want the truth, I don't care. Whatever Dumbledore might believe to the contrary, I am sure Potter asked an older student to put his name in."

"But how did that goblet forget that there's only  _three_ champions?"

"Weren't you listening to Moody? He said it would have taken an exceptionally powerful Confundus Charm to trick the goblet."

Chase cocked her head. "Did he say that? Well, he's probably right, but I can't think of any student here who could cast a Confundus Charm that powerful. Maybe you could, or McGonagall or Dumbledore, but none of you  _would_ ."

Severus shook his head. "You're asking questions that don't have an answer right now, Chase," he said wearily. "Go back to Ravenclaw Tower."

Later that night, lying awake in her bed, Chase forced out all of the thoughts besides what the first task on November the twenty-fourth might be.


	2. Defeating the Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dragons. Big, fire-breathing lizards.

A few days after the Goblet of Fire had spit Chase's and Harry's names out, Hogwarts Castle had settled into its usual routines, only now with a heightened rivalry between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. Chase couldn't say she honestly blamed her Housemates for being upset, but as prefect, she felt it duty-bound to break up fights between the more aggressive Ravenclaws and Gryffindors.

"Leave off!" She barked at Michael Corner, a fifth-year, when he tried to hex Potter from behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy the following Wednesday.

"I'm doing you a favor," Corner said. "Eliminate the competition, you know?"

Chase rolled her eyes. "Touching, Corner, but he's not that much competition."

"Isn't he?" Corner raised his eyebrows.

"Hey," Chase said, shrugging and spreading her arms in a mock-messianic pose as she walked backwards from him. "Prefect? Nine Outstanding O.W.L.s? Survived eleven years living with the Great Bastard of the Dungeons? I've  _ got  _ this!"

"Nice one," a soft, amused voice said behind her. Chase jumped and whirled around.

"Don't  _ do _ that, you prat!"

Damien Grant laughed and pulled her close, nuzzling the tip of his nose against hers. He and Chase had been friends since he'd moved to her Manchester neighborhood eight years ago, and had been dating since the beginning of their fifth year. "But it's so  _ funny _ to see you jump like that."

"You would think so," she said, smiling. "Did you get your half of the assignment done?"

"I did," he said, pulling a roll of parchment out of his bag and handing it to her.

"Excellent," she said, taking the parchment and skimming over Damien's work. "Right. Now all we've got to do is survive Moody today."

"By the way," Damien said, walking beside her as they headed for Defense Against the Dark Arts. "Have you noticed what Malfoy and his cronies are wearing?"

"What makes you think I actually look at Malfoy?" Chase said.

"Touch é ," Damien said. Draco Malfoy had never gotten over the fact that Chase preferred "that Mudblood Grant" to him, despite Chase making her feelings about Draco quite well-known before either of them had started at Hogwarts. "But apparently you're the  _ real _ Hogwarts champion. He's got a button that says so." They stopped and leaned against the wall outside their Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

"Oh, is he trying to act like a human being? Touching, in a creepy and vaguely unbelievable way."

Damien laughed. "And if he presses it, it flashes  _ Potter Stinks _ ."

"Good sportsmanship," Chase said, rolling her eyes.

 

XXX

 

Chase heard a ripping sound, followed by several  _ thuds _ and a lightening of her bookbag. "For fuck's sake!" She growled, looking down at the mess. "No, just go," she said to Sarah and Damien as they started reaching for her things. "I'll catch you up; you know what Snape's like when people are late."

As they walked away, Chase knelt down and began siphoning ink off her books, and she thanked whatever powers of foresight she possessed that she had put an Impermeable Charm on her Potions essay, as she knew it would count for a large part of her grade this term.

"Chase?" A voice asked from somewhere above her. She looked up; Harry Potter was standing over her.  


"Oh. Hi, Harry," she said. "Can't talk right now; my bag just split and I'm late for Potions-"

"Chase, the first task is dragons," Harry said.  


"And ink all over my- What?" Something had clicked, and she looked back up to Harry. "Dragons? Like, the gigantic fire-breathing lizards?"

"Yeah, the gigantic fire-breathing lizards," he said.

Chase stood up slowly, holding her torn bag in one hand and her books and scrolls of parchment in the crooks of both arms. "You're sure?"

"I saw them," he said, nodding.

Chase staggered and leaned against a wall to keep from falling. "Wow. Dragons." She let out a low whistle. "Well, uh... Thanks for letting me know." Harry started to walk away when something else clicked. " _ Potter _ !" She called after him. He turned, and had the decency to look sheepish when she held up her mutilated bag. "Next time you need to tell me something,  _ tap my shoulder _ , you idiot."

Harry shuffled his feet. "Um... How much did the bag cost?"

The offer was so genuine that it softened her. "Never mind, I can fix it." She chuckled. "Now I think I know why you and my uncle don't get on. Neither of you has any tact."

She turned and headed for the dungeons. She knew she should have been thinking about the upcoming lesson, which was sure to be difficult, but a dragon kept popping up and breathing fire at every other thought that tried to cross her mind.

"Fifteen minutes late, Miss Carter? Then let's make it fifteen points from Ravenclaw," Severus said smoothly as Chase walked in. "I tolerate tardiness from no one, not even a Triwizard Champion."

"Yes, sir," she answered vaguely, ignoring the mutterings of the other N.E.W.T. Ravenclaws in the room.

"Chase, what's the matter?" Sarah said as Chase sat down between her and Damien. "You look like you're going to puke." She moved her cauldron out of Chase's way; on Chase's right, Damien did likewise.

"Dragons," Chase wheezed. "The first task is  _ dragons _ . Fucking  _ dragons _ , you guys," she said, burying her head in her arms.

"Chase, you're hyperventilating," Damien said.

"Dragons," she whispered. " _ Dragons _ ..."

"Oh Christ," Damien said. He looked over at Sarah. "Should we take her to the hospital wing?"

Sarah nodded. "Get up," she whispered, tugging on Chase's shoulder.

" _ Dragons _ ..."

"Will the three of you pay attention!" Severus snapped from the front of the room.

"Chase isn't feeling her best, Professor," Damien said, hoisting Chase to her feet.

"Not at all well, sir," Sarah said. "We're just gonna trot her on up to the hospital wing- I think someone slipped her a Babbling Beverage, sir; you talked about them last week, I recognize the symptoms-"

"Overkill," Damien muttered, and they both pulled Chase out of the room.

" _ Dragons _ !" Chase said loudly when they were in the hallway.

" _ We're not dragging you anywhere, Chase, you can bloody well walk on your own _ !" Damien hollered over her.

 

XXX

 

"What was that ridiculous show about earlier?" Severus demanded later that day as Chase walked into his office. He had sent her a note at supper asking her to come around at eight o'clock, ostensibly to make up the day's lesson.

"Potter told me what the first task is, Severus, and it's dragons, and I'm a dead woman walking," Chase said, her voice betraying her panic.

"I see." Severus said, sitting back in his chair.

"You don't get it!  _ Dragons _ , you stupid ass,  _ dragons _ !  _ They breathe fire _ !"

"I understood you the first time," he said irritably. "Now calm down."

"What am I gonna do, Severus? I don't know anything about dragons."

"What do you think the library is for?"

"Don't do this to me!" Chase's voice scaled up and she began pacing, pulling at her long black hair as she went. "Give me  _ something _ to work with! Anything! Anything at all!" She stopped pacing and suddenly looked deranged. "Oh God, I'm gonna die, that thing is gonna  _ kill me _ ..."

"Chase, stop your hysterics this instant." Severus stood up and made to grab her by the shoulders, when she flung her arms around him and began sobbing into his chest. "Get off!" He snarled, clawing at her.

"Severus, if I don't make it through this, I want Damien to have my books, and give the music box to Sarah, okay? You know, the one I got for my birthday, from that guy, whoever it was, claiming to be my father and asking me to accept it as seventeen years' worth of lost birthday presents? Give her that, she'd like it."

" _ That is enough. _ " Severus used his most commanding voice, and finally Chase let go. He smoothed down his robes and rummaged through his stores, pulling out a vial of Calming Draft. He poured out a measure and handed it to Chase, who drank it eagerly.

"Thanks," she muttered when it took hold.

"Don't mention it," he said gruffly. "Now." He leaned against his desk. "I am not going to help you with this task in any way. It's against the rules, for one, and for another, the library does contain quite an extensive collection of books about dragons. You are an intelligent young woman -against all odds, it must be said- and I expect you to be able to learn how to get around that dragon on your own. Besides which, are you really fool enough to believe that you will be in mortal peril with Dumbledore and twenty dragon handlers looking on?"

Chase glared up at him, but without any real fire. Then she sighed. "All right, so I'm panicking."

"Obviously," he said, his lip curling.

"But I didn't sign up for this! When I put my name in that goblet, I thought this thing would be at least a bit sane."

"Well, whatever you thought you signed up for, you're in this now." He walked over to the office door and opened it. "I suggest you deal with it."

 

XXX

 

Chase looked down at the toy dragon she'd drawn from Bagman's purple silk bag. The Welsh Greenback, and she was first up. She swallowed hard.  _ It's okay. I know what I'm going to do. Remember,  _ Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them  _ says Welsh Greenbacks avoid humans unless they're provoked... Which probably includes going up to their nests... FOCUS! _

"Please welcome our first Champion, from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Miss Chase Carter!" Ludo Bagman's voice echoed around the grouds. Chase swallowed again, clutched the handle of her wand, and stepped out.

"Good luck," Harry whispered behind her. She tried to thank him, but all that came out was a sound halfway between a squeak and a whine.

The dragon seemed almost docile as Chase approached the arena. Still, she moved cautiously. Once the dragon realized Chase was heading for her nest, she'd be less calm. Sure enough, Chase had barely entered the enclosure when the dragon started snarling and trying to charge her.

Chase raised her wand and pointed it at a cluster of rocks just in the dragon's peripheral vision, yelling a transfiguring charm. In an instant they turned into three sheep, all of whom looked utterly bewildered to find themselves in a ring with a very large, very angry Welsh Greenback.  _ Go for the sheep _ , Chase thought desperately, backing against the wall.  _ Go eat the sheep... _

After a moment, the dragon turned around and considered the sheep. Barely breathing, Chase watched as she cocked her head, apparently confused as to what to do.  _ Go on, _ Chase thought desperately.  _ Go eat the sheep. That's your favorite food, isn't it? GO EAT THE DAMN SHEEP! _

"Nice bit of Transfiguration there from Miss Carter," Bagman said. "But it looks like her dragon just isn't hungry."

_ Oh shut up, _ Chase thought angrily. But he was right, and she had to come up with a second plan, and quickly. The dragon was eyeballing her; as long as she could see Chase, she wouldn't leave her eggs.

Then it came to her. Of course! Why hadn't she thought of it before? She raised her wand and tapped herself on the head. Instantly, a sensation like cold water trickling down her neck and shoulders, and a moment later she looked down-

"Oho!" Bagman shouted. "Disillusioned herself! Well now, that's one I don't think any of us could have imagined. Very creative, Miss Carter."

Chase grinned. If the dragon couldn't  _ see _ her, it couldn't attack, could it? She headed toward the nest.

The dragon let out a short roar, apparently shocked by the human's sudden disappearance, but a moment later she took a heightened interest in the sheep. After what seemed like hours, the dragon lumbered off to chase the now-bleating sheep, and Chase slipped up to the center of the nest, where the golden egg lay. She grabbed it, and had clambered down the sides of the nest and had nearly made it to the exit when-

_ THWACK! _ Something long, hard, and solid hit Chase's side, sending her sprawled on the ground and just barely holding onto the golden egg.  _ Oh fuck _ , Chase thought as she looked up. The dragon had noticed an egg missing from her nest, and was roaring in fury. Trying not to throw up from the pain, she crawled just out of the dragon's reach and took the Disillusionment Charm off herself.

"Help," she gasped at the approaching dragon-tamers.

"Miss Carter gets the golden egg, but it looks like she's got some serious injuries," was the last thing Chase heard before the world went black.

"Well?" She heard Severus's voice somewhere above her.

"Broken ribs, a broken hip, punctured lung, and a nasty bruise on her right side," Madam Pomfrey's voice answered as Chase opened her eyes. "Absolutely insane, making children fight a dragon. What next?" She exploded suddenly. "She's lucky that thing didn't kill her. They  _ all _ are."

"And she came in third, for all that," Damien's said indignantly. He was standing on the same side of the bed as Severus, and his hands looked like he might have bitten them anxiously. "What's Karkaroff playing at, giving her a one? He gave Krum ten, and his dragon smashed half her eggs!"

"Favoritism," Severus said indifferently.

Chase tried to speak -how could Severus be indifferent when Madam Pomfrey was telling him she was lucky to be alive, the rotten bastard- but all that came out was a pained whimper. Severus, Damien, and Madam Pomfrey jumped slightly.

"Chase!" Damien said, reaching forward to hug her.

"Don't!" Chase, Severus, and the nurse said warningly.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly, dropping his arms.

"I appreciate the sentiment, babe, I do," Chase said. "But I really, really hurt right now."  


"And you're going to hurt for a while, I'm afraid," Madam Pomfrey said, picking up a beaker with some bright blue liquid in it. "Not much I can do about it, except give you some Painkilling Draft. By the way, Severus, I'm going to need more in a few days."

Severus nodded and left the infirmary.

Chase turned to Damien. "So, what were the others' ideas?"

"Krum did the Conjunctivitis Curse," he said. "And his dragon went ballistic, stomping all over the eggs. Fleur tried to put hers in a trance, and it almost worked, until it snored out this great big ball of flame and her skirt caught fire. And Potter... My God, Potter was amazing." Damien grinned; he was a Gryffindor prefect and couldn't help being proud of his housemate. "He Summoned his broom and  _ flew _ around his dragon."

"Nice! Ouch..." She'd tried to sit up and been pushed back by a stabbing pain in her side.

"Oh no you don't, missy," Madam Pomfrey said harshly. "You've got five cracked ribs that just mended  _ and _ a hip joint that's still badly off. You are going to lay  _ still _ for the rest of the weekend."

Chase groaned.


	3. The Yule Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the first task behind her, Chase sets out to uncover the egg's clue. Severus, meanwhile, considers his position as a spy and what it will mean for Chase's future as well as his own.

"So, this egg," Chase said, picking up the golden egg she'd gotten in the first task. "I'm supposed to open it and figure out the clue?" She'd just gotten out of the hospital wing the day before and been told that her egg had been given to Severus for safekeeping.

"That's what Bagman said," Severus said, not looking up from his _Evening Prophet_.

"Right," Chase said. She opened the egg, and instantly a horrible wailing sound filled the dungeon.

" _Shut it!_ " Severus yelled.

Chase hadn't needed telling; in a second she had it shut and was looking at it in wide-eyed horror. "Absolutely not," she said. "I draw the line at anything that sounds like that."

"For the last time, Chase-"

"Severus, that thing sounded like a stuck pig having something shoved up its arse!"

"Crude, as usual," he said, looking up at last with a sneer. "But like it or not, that is your clue."

"Well, can I have a pair of earmuffs or something, while I'm figuring it out?"

"No. Go back to your common room; it's past curfew."

"'Night, grouch," she said, sliding off the desk with the egg under her arm. He didn't respond.

"Well?" Sarah asked twenty minutes later as Chase walked through the door to the Ravenclaw common room.

"I have to fight a pig-raping banshee next task, as far as I can tell," Chase said, tossing the egg onto an overstuffed armchair. "And I'm up a creek."

"It can't be as bad as that," Sarah said, looking at the egg. "How does it open?"

" _Don't-_ "

But too late; Sarah had opened the egg, and once again the horrible wailing filled the room. Startled, Sarah dropped it and it rolled away. Chase ran after it, pouncing on top of it and slamming it shut, but not before half of Ravenclaw Tower had slammed open their dormitory doors, looking for the source of commotion.

"It's just my stupid Triwizard egg!" Chase said. "Go back to bed, all of you; it's okay. No really, don't cry," she said to a weepy-looking first year. "It sounds worse than it is. Just go to sleep."

"Sorry," Sarah said sheepishly. "Um... Is there anything I can do about it?"

"Don't worry about it," Chase said, sitting down heavily on the couch, setting the egg beside her, and rubbing her forehead. "But if you've got an aspirin, I'll take one."

XXX

"Carter, see me after class," Mad-Eye Moody said at the beginning of Defense Against the Dark Arts two weeks later.

"You're not in trouble, are you?" Sarah whispered as she and Chase chose a table to sit at.

"Couldn't be," Chase said. "I take it as a good sign if he hasn't tried to turn me into a rodent." She and Sarah collapsed into giggles.

"That's enough, you two," Moody growled from the front of the room. Chase and Sarah straightened up and remained silent for the rest of the lesson.

"Catch you up in the Great Hall," Chase told Sarah at the end. Then she approached Moody's desk. "You wanted to see me, sir?" Moody's magical eye revolved in its socket; Chase had the feeling it was looking at her through his skull. She held back a shudder.

"You figured out that egg's clue yet?" Moody asked, not looking up from his notes.

"No," She said cautiously.

He looked up and squinted at her. "Well, I won't give you the answer, but I can give you a hint. Take a bath."

"I beg your pardon?" Chase tried not to sound indignant; after all, she made a point to shower on a daily basis.

"I'll make it clearer: Take a bath and take the egg with you."

"Right," Chase said, nodding. "Er... Thank you, sir." She retreated into the hall, where she broke into as fast a walk as she dared. She didn't think Moody meant anything, well, _indecent_ , by telling her to take a bath, but it was creepy all the same-

"Carter, how are you today?" Draco Malfoy's drawl brought her back down to earth with an unpleasant jolt.

" _Go away,_ " Chase snapped.

"Dear, dear, is that any way to talk to another student?" Draco said with a cold grin, matching her stride. "Besides, I only wanted to ask you to the dance."

"First, over my dead body. Second, what dance?"

"Don't you _know_?" Draco said, his eyes flashing. "You're a _champion_ and you don't know? Good God, my father told me ages ago..."

Chase stopped and drew her wand. "Draco, you have exactly ten seconds to tell me what the _hell_ you're talking about before I chain you to the ceiling, starting now."

The smile slid off Draco's face, replaced by a worried look. "The Yule Ball," he said, trying to keep a note of terror out of his voice. "There's going to be a formal dance Christmas night."

"And you're asking me out because you think you have a chance? I have a boyfriend, in case you hadn't noticed."

His face flushed red. "You could do better than that Mud-"

"You. Chained to the ceiling. Give me a reason, Ferret Boy," Chase snarled, raising her wand until the tip was level with Draco's nose. They were roughly the same height, but Draco knew as well as Chase did that she was the more powerful between them. "I'll go to a dance with you when hell freezes over. Go with someone your own level, why don't you."

"You're saying you're too good for me?" Draco said, raising his own wand.

"Um, let me think... That is _exactly_ what I'm saying." Chase grinned as she blocked Draco's spell.

"Mr. Malfoy. Miss Carter," Severus's voice floated out from the Great Hall to them. Chase turned and saw him standing in the doorway. "Dueling in the halls is forbidden. Twenty points from Ravenclaw."

"But I didn't do anything!" Chase said furiously. " _He_ tried to curse me, Professor."

"Run along, Mr. Malfoy," Severus said coolly, as though he hadn't heard Chase.

Malfoy sauntered past Chase, smirking as he took his place at the Slytherin table. Chase stalked into the hall after him, muttering "You biased son of a bitch," under her breath to Severus as she walked by him.

"That's another ten points from Ravenclaw, young lady, and you'd best learn to mind your mouth if you don't want detention," Severus said smoothly, brushing past her to go back to the teachers' table.

Chase waited until Severus was completely past her before mouthing _fuck you!_ at his back.

"What's wrong?" Sarah asked as Chase flung herself down on the bench at the Ravenclaw table.

"Draco Malfoy is a skeevy creep, and my uncle is a biased fucking asshole," Chase muttered darkly.

"Ah, the usual, then," Sarah said. "Shepherd's pie?"

Later that night, Chase took her egg and headed toward the prefects' bathroom. "Pine fresh," she muttered at the door, and pushed it open.

The prefects' bathroom was her favorite place in the castle. The tub was more like a swimming pool, and despite taking a bath once a week since she'd been made a prefect, it still surprised her. She didn't even think she'd tried out all the taps yet. Tonight, she picked one that made the water leap in arcs across the tub, and one that produced large, cherry-scented bubbles that hanged over her head and burst into hundreds of smaller bubbles when she poked them. Smiling, she tapped her hair, which twisted itself into a high bun, and undressed, lowering herself into the tub.

" _Accio egg,_ " she said lazily as she relaxed, jabbing her wand at it. The egg zoomed into her hands. What about this bath was going to help her figure this clue out? Sitting up, she opened the egg. Once again, the horrible wailing came out of it, this time magnified in the room's high ceilings. Chase tried to slam it shut, but it slipped out of her wet hands. Grumbling, she dove under the surface to retrieve it when-

_And while you're searching, ponder this:_

_We've taken what you'll sorely miss..._

Startled, she swallowed a mouthful of water and came up coughing and spluttering. After she'd coughed out the last of the soapy water, she looked down quizzically at the egg. "I can understand it underwater," she muttered to herself. "But what kind of..." Ask she spoke, her eyes wandered to a painting on the wall opposite her, of a mermaid sleeping on a rock. However, the mermaid was currently laughing, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "Oh, shut up," Chase snapped at her, and submerged herself again, determined to hear the entire clue.

_Come seek us where our voices sound,_

_We cannot sing above the ground,_

_And while you're searching, ponder this:_

_We've taken what you'll sorely miss,_

_An hour long you'll have to look,_

_And to recover what we took,_

_But past an hour, the prospect's black,_

_Too late, it's gone, it won't come back_.

She listened to it again and again, coming up for air every few minutes, until she was sure she'd memorized it. Then she shut the egg and set it on the deck, laying her chin on her crossed arms and staring at it as if it would tell her more.

"Mermaids," she said. "That's obvious. They're going to take something I'll miss." She paused, thinking of this statement. What would she sorely miss? Her collection of books, most of them about Charm-work and potion-brewing, was valuable, certainly; but would it destroy her to lose them? "No," she said. Her broomstick? Unlikely; she preferred apparating, and it was a Comet Two-Sixty.

Then a truly horrible thought occured to her. _Past an hour, the prospect's black_. It sounded like they would take something that could expire... Something that could die...

"Oh Christ," she whispered, and even being shoulder-deep in hot water couldn't stop the chill that ran through her. "They're going to take some _one_." Who? Immediately Severus, Damien, and Sarah popped into her mind. "No... _No..._ " she moaned.

Whatever bitter words flew between them, and however nasty their fights could get, Chase couldn't deny that she loved Severus fiercely. Damien was the only person she felt really understood her and still loved her, and Sarah... Sarah was like the sister she'd always wanted. But out of the three of them, who would Chase miss the most? She thought so hard about it that she gave herself a pounding headache, but she couldn't come up with an answer. She wasn't ready to lose any of them.

"What's wrong?" Damien asked Chase the next day, his hazel eyes shadowing with concern as he took his place next to her in Transfiguration.

Chase was sure she looked terrible; it had taken her hours to fall asleep after figuring out the egg's clue, and her sleep had been interrupted by nightmares. The last one had ended when she woke up sobbing, and the worst part (for her, anyway) was that she couldn't remember what, or who, it had been about. "Bad dreams," she said vaguely.

Damien raised his eyebrows at her, but before he could say anything else, McGonagall called for silence. Good thing; Chase was tired of the mutterings and being pointed at. The biggest problem with being pretty, she thought irritably, was that everyone noticed when she looked bad.

"Bad dreams, about what?" Damien asked after Transfiguration.

"Wha- Oh." Chase rubbed her forehead. "Just bad dreams."

" _Chase_..."

She shook her head and looked around for an empty classroom, making doubly sure Peeves wasn't in it. She beckoned to Damien, who followed her, shut the door, and locked it securely with magic.

"The second task," Chase said. "I figured out the egg's clue; it was in Mermish, you can't understand it above water. The mermaids that live in the lake are going to take someone I care about and if I don't find you in an hour, you'll die." Her voice broke at the end of the sentence.

"There's mermaids in the lake?" Damien said curiously. Then he shook his head. "Chase, you know Dumbledore won't let anyone die during this tournament-"

"I know _Dumbledore_ won't," she said. "But mermaids... They have different laws and ethics from humans, Damien; they might not have a problem keeping and drowning you."

"Well, then, you'll just have to make sure you get me before an hour's up," Damien said. "By the way, what makes you so sure they'll take me?"

"The clue. It said _we've taken what you'll sorely miss_."

Damien gently took Chase's chin in his hand and tilted her head up, giving her a soft kiss. "Meet me in the library at eight o'clock. We'll make sure you have a plan."

Chase smiled as she rested her cheek on Damien's chest. Having a plan sounded wonderful.

XXX

Christmas Day dawned bright and cold, and as she woke up, Chase thought only of the Yule Ball later that night and what would follow. She had been planning it for weeks -months, really- but there was every opportunity for it to go wrong... She pushed those worries to the back of her mind as she and the other seventh-year Ravenclaw girls started opening their presents.

Chase smiled as she opened a box of her favorite clothespin cookies from Sarah's mother, a small eagle pin from Sarah, a small bottle of a sweet scent from Damien, a new coat and set of specialty quills specifically for the left-handed magical population ("complete with anti-smudge charm and comfort grip!") from Severus, and a very pretty eagle snowglobe that recited Rowena Ravenclaw's _wit beyond measure_ rede from "your father". _Who is he?_ Chase thought as she shook the snowglobe. She really wanted to know; he was awfully generous with these gifts. She'd seen this snowglobe in a shop in Diagon Alley that past summer, and knew how much it cost. Not that he could replace Severus, but still...

She'd reached the bottom of the pile of presents, and her mood plummeted as she saw who it was from. _Mum_. The hell you are, she thought angrily, tossing the gift into her trunk unopened. Her mother, Rowen, had disappeared when Chase was six years old, and for eleven years she hadn't written to Chase or even tried to contact her. When she'd returned over the past summer, Chase had told her on no uncertain terms that she wanted nothing to do with her, and since then, Rowen had tried to make Chase change her mind. Nothing doing; Chase's last name might be Carter, but her deepest nature was Snape through-and-through.

Sarah, picking up on Chase's dark mood, said, "Chase, you haven't tried on your dress robes yet. Why don't you give us a show?"

"All right," Chase said. Anything to take her mind off her mother. She gathered her outfit, including shoes, and disappeared into the small washroom off the dormitory.

Ten minutes later, the girls in the dormitory let out a collective " _Ooh_!" as Chase stepped out of the bathroom. She was dressed in robes made of a light, floaty material, iridescent dark blue until she stepped into the light, when it became iridescent dark purple. Despite her misgivings about the color and whether she could pull it off, being so pale, Chase had to admit that the dress was stunning.

"It's gorgeous!" Chelsea Robbins said to Chase's left.

"Wait 'til everyone else sees you, 'specially that Veela bitch," Sarah said. "Oh, she'll puke..."

Chase grinned. "Well, we'll just have to keep this a secret for a few more hours, won't we?"

XXX

"Oh, Severus, look at Chase!" Minerva McGonagall said later that night, as the Triwizard Champions and their dates entered the Great Hall. "She's beautiful."

"What a color!" Charity Burbage sighed.

"Could we have asked for a lovelier champion?" Flitwick squeaked.

Severus simply nodded. He couldn't disagree that Chase looked amazing; the cut and color of the dress was perfect, her makeup was flawless, and her hair was styled in a way that framed her pretty face in exactly the right way. She looked like a queen, and from the look the Beauxbatons Champion was throwing at her, everyone knew it, Chase most of all. Severus saw Chase flip her hair pointedly at the Veela, smirking, before looking at her plate and ordering the poached salmon.

But, and he could never say this out loud in front of his colleagues, Chase looking beautiful wasn't anything out of the ordinary. He had other issues to worry about, and worry he did as he nursed a gobletful of mulled mead.

His Mark was becoming clearer with each passing day. Severus knew what it meant, and more importantly, he knew his own time was coming. Soon, very soon, he would have to start spying on the Dark Lord for Dumbledore. It was part of the deal he'd made thirteen years ago, in exchange for Dumbledore protecting his beloved Lily. Severus had no problem honoring Lily's memory by working to kill the person who'd killed her, and as long as his soul was burdened with the knowledge that she never would have died had he not relayed that blasted prophecy to the Dark Lord he would pay whatever penance he was asked.

Or at least, that was how he'd looked at it before Chase had entered his life.

Severus looked back over to Chase, who had joined the other champions and their dates on the dance floor; she and Damien were slowly waltzing to the song. He had done everything in his power to make sure she would never make the same mistakes he had, and so far he could only assume he'd succeeded. Chase and Damien had never fallen out, and the only time she'd ever used the word "Mudblood" to describe a Muggle-born he had instilled a deep and lasting hatred of the word in her mind. The only interest she'd ever shown in the Dark Arts was just to understand how they were defended against, and for as foul as her temper could be, she hadn't hurt someone out of anger since before she'd started at Hogwarts. But none of that guaranteed her safety, especially if he managed to anger the Dark Lord. But how to keep her safe, that was the rub. Certainly Chase was a powerful and gifted witch, and smart enough to not walk into trouble, but that didn't mean she couldn't be swayed somehow, and the Dark Lord would have plenty of ways-

"Severus." Igor Karkaroff had come up behind him and was leaning over to whisper in Severus's ear. "We have to talk. Now."

"Not here," Severus hissed, aware of his colleagues' eyes on him.

"Outside, then," Karkaroff said. " _Now_ ," he added anxiously.

"Fine," Severus growled, setting down his unfinished goblet of mead and getting up, leading Karkaroff out into the courtyard. He took one look around and saw his cover; there were several bushes shaking in decidedly unnatural ways. "What do you want, Igor?"

Karkaroff rolled up his sleeve. The Dark Mark's outline, now darkened to charcoal-gray, stood out against his pale skin.

"Indeed," Severus said indifferently. He turned to head back into the castle.

"Don't act like you don't know what this means, Severus!" Karkaroff barked behind him. Severus turned back to him, an eyebrow cocked. "If mine's getting clearer, yours must be, too!" He lowered his voice. "I heard rumors about you while I was in Azkaban. The Death Eaters believe you have turned away from them."

"What was their proof? I never named names, I was never arrested." Severus began walking toward the bushes. "The Dark Lord is long gone, and as for what imprisoned, insane Death Eaters said about me that long ago? I don't see what there is to fuss about, Igor."

"Severus, you cannot pretend this isn't happening!" Karkaroff walked beside him, his voice hushed and anxious. "It's been getting clearer and clearer for months. I am becoming seriously concerned, I can't deny it-"

"Then flee," Severus snapped, disgusted by Karkaroff's cowardice. "Flee. I will make your excuses. I, however, am remaining at Hogwarts." He blew apart a rose bush with his wand, and two sixth-year students squealed and came running out from behind it. "Ten points from Ravenclaw, Fawcett! And ten points from Hufflepuff, too, Stebbins!" He then caught sight of the only two people who could have made his night worse: Harry Potter and his gormless friend Ronald Weasley. "And what are you two doing?" He growled.

"We're walking," Weasley said shortly. "Not against the law, is it?"

"Keep walking, then!" Severus snarled, pushing past Weasley and Potter back into the castle. He stayed as far away from Igor Karkaroff as he could for the rest of the night, barely paying attention to the music or the dancing students.

Hours later, as the last students were filing out of the Great Hall, Dumbledore leaned his back against the same wall a Severus, a few inches away. "Well?"

"Karkaroff's Mark is becoming darker too," Severus said quietly. "He is panicking, he fears retribution; you know how much help he gave the Ministry after the Dark Lord fell." He looked sidelong at Dumbledore. "Karkaroff intends to flee if the Mark burns."

"Does he? And are you tempted to join him?"

"No," Severus said firmly. "I am not such a coward."

"No," Dumbledore said. "You are a braver man by far than Igor Karkaroff. You know, sometimes I think we Sort too soon..."

Severus stiffened at this. "Albus," he called after Dumbledore's retreating back. Dumbledore turned to him. "I have something to ask of you."

"Chase's safety." It wasn't a question. "Come to my office. We will discuss it there."

"She has no idea the danger she'll be in when the Dark Lord returns," Severus said after he closed the door to Dumbledore's office. "I have tried to explain it to her, but she thinks I'm being paranoid. Why," he burst out suddenly, "can she not take anything seriously?"

"She doesn't do it on purpose, Severus," Dumbledore said calmly. "She's too young to remember what it was like when Lord Voldemort was powerful. Once the danger is immediate, everyone will understand it, and Chase is a clever girl; she'll do what she has to, to survive."

"I don't wish only for her survival," Severus said. He sat in the chair opposite the headmaster's desk. "I wish for her to be protected. The Dark Lord could try to sway her, make her join him."

Dumbledore considered his answer. "That is a very real possibility. When Voldemort returns, I give you my assurance that I will do everything in my power to hide and protect her. I can't guarantee her safety, however. She'll have to cooperate."

"You have reason to believe she won't?"

"Like I said earlier, Severus, she doesn't understand what Lord Voldemort's return will mean for our world. She's clever, but she's headstrong and impulsive. Not unlike you at that age, if I recall correctly," Dumbledore said, smiling a bit.

That stung. "Regardless..."

"I promise, Severus, I will do everything I can to make sure she's protected and that Lord Voldemort can't turn her. But I can only do that much; she'll have to decide for herself if she wants to be hidden. I won't force her to do anything."

Severus knew he'd have to be satisfied with that. "Thank you," he said, rising from the chair and going to his quarters.

XXX

"Meet me down the end of the Transfiguration hall at half-past one," Chase had whispered in Damien's ear as she laid her head on his shoulder during the last dance of the night.

"What are you up to?" He whispered back.

"You'll see," she said mischievously. "And I promise, you'll like it."

Now it was twenty minutes past one, and Chase was walking through the corridors, Disillusioned and using her memory of the last three weeks to find her way to her destination. Three weeks, preparing the how and where, and if it went belly-up now... Well, she supposed there were worse things in life than being caught out of bed at this hour on Boxing Day.

Damien was standing halfway down the corrider, effectively hidden in the shadows. Chase sidled up next to him and took the charm off herself. "Happy Boxing Day," she murmured.

"What was this thing you wanted to show me?"

Chase tapped the wall behind them with her wand, and it a door opened in it. She led the way in, and Damien's jaw dropped.

Chase had spent the last three weeks cleaning a long-unused classroom at the far end of the Transfiguration corridor, re-arranging the desks and Transfiguring two of them, set side-by-side, into a king-sized bed with a comfortable mattress and soft linen sheets. And that had just been the beginning. She'd also performed a tricky charm to make the floor and walls appear like soft carpeting and real wood panels, respectively; and she'd charmed the outer wall to appear as if there was no door; you had to tap your wand in exactly the right place on the wall to make the door appear. But unless Damien liked it, it would be for nothing. "Well?" She asked nervously.

"This is _amazing_ ," Damien said. He turned to her. "You're sure you want to do this?"

"Yes," Chase said firmly. "I've been sure since July. We'd have done it then, if my uncle hadn't come home early and ruined everything."

Damien nodded. "In that case, what are we waiting for?"

"My thoughts exactly." Chase lit a fire in the grate, stripped down to her underwear, and stretched out on her stomach on the bed.


	4. Of Lovers, Malcontents, Eggs, and Seekers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chase and Severus talk about the possibility of Lord Voldemort returning. Then she finds herself witnessing the theft of a Triwizard egg.

“So how was it?” Sarah asked the next morning at breakfast.

“Quick. A bit painful. And there was blood.” Chase grinned. She had returned to Ravenclaw Tower at dawn, still sore from her and Damien's night of romance, but happy. “I can't wait until we get a chance to go back and do it again. Did I mention he's not lacking at all?”

“I still can't believe you went through with it. D'you know how much trouble you'd have been in if anyone caught you?”

“It was part of the appeal.” But as she said it, her eyes swept the teacher's table, and what she didn't see relaxed her. No one besides Sarah had known about the plan, and none of the teachers, not even Severus (whom Chase had expected to be suspicious, at least), had any clue that two prefects had broken at least ten rules last night. Chase mentally shrugged it off, and finished her coffee. “Well, I'm off to the library. There's a book in there with the potion recipe I'm looking for, I just know it.”

“Your uncle would have it,” Sarah pointed out.

“I'm pretty sure he does, but...” She sneered and lowered her voice to a perfect imitation of Severus's. “'I am not helping you out in this tournament; it's against the rules'. Bloody typical,” she added in her normal voice.

“In that case, good luck.”

Chase nodded, hoisted her bag on her shoulder, and left the Great Hall, not sure a big grin wasn't plastered across her face. All things considered, she thought things couldn't have gone better last night. Now if only they'd go as well today, looking for that potion. It probably wasn't going to be in the Restricted Section... Probably the underwater section, yes; that seemed more likely.

A quick search of that section quickly proved Chase right, and as she was walking down to the dungeons to test the recipe, a copy of _Pertinent Potions for Perilous Predicaments_ clutched in her hand, she saw Harry Potter heading toward the library. _Should I tell him how to get the egg's clue?_ She considered for a second, then, stowing the book in her bag, turned around and trotted toward him. “Harry? Harry!” She called.

He turned around. “Oh. Hi, Chase,” he said dully.

“Something wrong?” As she drew level with him, Chase thought Harry looked a little heartsick... Or hacked off, his expression was a bit difficult to read.

“It's nothing,” he said. “You look happy.”

“I don't usually?” When he didn't answer, she said, “Never mind. Have you figured out the egg's clue yet?”

“Er... No.”

“In that case...” She looked around and, noticing a group of Beauxbatons students walking by, turned to a window so that her back was to them. Harry followed suit. As Chase pretended to be interested in something outside, she tilted her head toward Harry, making sure her hair blocked her mouth, and muttered, “Draw yourself a bath and take the egg with you. Use the prefects' bathroom; you'll have more privacy and there's another hint in there. Password's 'pine fresh'.”

Harry blinked. “Why are you telling me this?” He muttered back.

“Tit-for-tat,” Chase said calmly. “You told me about the dragons, remember?” When Harry didn't answer, she said, “Take it or leave it; doesn't matter to me. See you around, Potter.” She turned away from the window and headed to the dungeons.

“Professor!” Chase called, knocking on Severus's office door. “I need to monopolize the lab and make a gigantic mess for an hour or so.”

“That had better be a joke,” Severus growled as he opened the door.

“You're such a lovely, sweet-tempered bloke, you know that?” Chase said, grinning as she pulled the book out of her bag. “But I'm only partly joking. Have you got any motherwort?”

“Not in the students' storeroom,” he said, and went off to his private stores to get it. “What else do you need?”

“Gillyweed, common mallow, grindylow blood, kelpie hair.” Chase said, grabbing all except the gillyweed from the students' stores as she said them. She set up her cauldron and propped the book open to the recipe. “And some firewhisky, if you've got any.”

“Don't push your luck.” He handed her the bottles of gillyweed and motherwort.

Chase tied her hair back into a ponytail and began prepping her station.

Some time later, Severus asked, “Did you open that gift from your mother?”

“No, I didn't,” Chase said shortly, the familiar surge of contempt rising in her chest, though her hands remained steady as she sliced and chopped the ingredients.

“When are you going to grow up and accept her apology?”

“It has nothing to do with maturity, Severus. _She left me_ , and maybe if she'd made any effort to get in touch I might have an incentive to forgive her. But she didn't. What am I supposed to make of that?” She paused to light a low fire under her cauldron. “Unless you've got some new information for me about her?”

“No, I don't,” he said, and from his tone Chase knew he was telling the truth.

Neither of them spoke for a while, then Severus said, “Chase, we need to talk about what you're going to do when the Dark Lord returns.”

“Severus, we've been over this,” Chase said, looking up briefly from stirring the contents of her cauldron. “People say You-Know-Who's body was destroyed the night he tried to kill Harry Potter. How can he come back if he hasn't got a body?”

“You remember what happened to Quirrell four years ago. He can share another wizard's body.”

“Touché,” Chase admitted.

“But that wouldn't explain why it's coming back...” He seemed as though he'd thought out loud with that statement, and rubbed his left forearm almost unconsciously.

Chase looked at the potion's directions, gave it one last stir, and left it to simmer as she turned to Severus. “What does the Dark Mark do, just mark you as a Death Eater?”

“It was his means of calling us,” Severus said, snapping out of his thoughts. “When it burned black, every Death Eater was to apparate to his side. That it's becoming clearer and darker is a sign that he is returning. It hasn't been this dark since the last time he was powerful.”

“Well, let's say you're right and he is coming back,” Chase said. “I can understand why you want to keep away from him, but why are you so concerned about me? If you're not returning to him-”

“It has nothing to do with whether or not I'm returning to him. It has everything to do with you staying off his radar.”

Chase scoffed. “Severus, contrary to what you might think, I'm not stupid. I wouldn't join You-Know-Who in a million years.”

“You say that now,” Severus said. “And it has nothing to do with you being stupid or not. The Dark Lord has ways of making people join him that even the best and brightest wouldn't see coming.”

"So what should I do? Cower at home until he's gone? Your cloak would be enough to cover us both, I'm sure."

"Quit being a smart aleck, for starters," Severus growled. "Next: If Dumbledore offers to hide you, let him. He'll make sure you're well out of the Dark Lord's reach."

"What about Damien?"

"What about him?"

Chase looked at Severus with open disgust. "And you think _I'm_ the idiot. Has it escaped your notice, Severus, that my boyfriend is _Muggleborn_? Or that according to You-Know-Who's creed, Muggleborns are th e scum of the earth, fit only for killing and torturing? I'm not going anywhere without Damien, and that's the end of it."

"You can discuss the matter with him. If he wants to go into hiding with you, I can't see why he wouldn't."

"I can think of six reasons."

"Oh?" Severus smirked.

"His mother, Laurie, Jessica, Rachael, Sadie, and Mackenzie." Chase ticked them off on her fingers. "He's not going to leave them, especially if they could be in danger from You-Know-Who."

" _All_ Muggles will be in danger when the Dark Lord returns," Severus said, as though that settled the matter.

"You're asking an awful lot of Damien, you know." Chase looked at the potion recipe again and turned off the heat. "And I don't understand why we should hide, anyway. It's not like you're going back into You-Know-Who's service-"

"I am, in some capacity."

Chase dropped her ladle on the table with a _clang_. "Run that by me again?"

"I'm going to spy on the Death Eaters for Dumbledore," Severus continued. "I'm the only person who can, given my, ah... Certain qualifications."

"I see," Chase said, though she wasn't sure she did. "Well, I'll talk with him and see what he wants to do. This whole situation's going to be tricky."

Severus nodded.

XXX

The morning of Chase's eighteenth birthday, January 21st, dawned bright and cold. She got a few gifts from her friends and happy wishes through the day, but it was Damien's suggestion that they revisit their special room in the Transfiguration corridor that Chase really wanted to hear. Just after midnight, she left Ravenclaw Tower to meet Damien at the main staircase.

"Damien, knock it off," she mock-scolded as he lifted some hair off her neck and planted a line of little kisses down it once they reached the landing.

"Come on, it's just a nibble."

Chase giggled and turned to him. "You, sir," she said, putting her arms around him, "are incorrigable." She smacked his butt playfully. "Besides, you've gotta eat your veg before you get dessert."

"Wait a minute, I've gotta eat _what_ before I get dessert?" A devilish grin spread across his face as Chase realized her mistake too late. She stuck her tongue out at him and pulled him in the direction of the room.

A sudden clattering and wailing stopped them both. Damien pulled Chase into the shadows between two suits of armor, and as extra insurance, Chase cast a Disillusionment Charm on them both. Barely breathing and definitely not moving, they watched as a Triwizard egg spun around on the marble floor. Then they heard Filch's cry of "PEEVES!" and Chase knew she and Damien would be stuck where they were for a while.

"Egg?" Filch said quietly. "My sweet-" ( _Oh great, that flea-ridden atrocity is with him, too,_ Chase thought disgustedly) "-this is a Triwizard clue! This belongs to a school champion! _Peeves!_ You've been stealing!" Filch's pouchy face appeared, tearing aside the tapestry that hid the stairs. "Hiding, are you? I'm coming to get you, Peeves. You've gone and stolen a Triwizard clue, Peeves; Dumbledore'll have you out of here for this, you filthy, pilfering poltergeist!"

Chase groped the air around her midsection until she caught Damien's hand. "One squeeze is yes, two no," she breathed. "Did you see Peeves on the way down here?" Two squeezes. "Neither did I."

_"Hush!"_ Damien hissed.

"Filch! What's going on?"

_Severus!_ Chase's stomach turned icy. If he caught her and Damien out of bed at this hour, they were done for. Severus looked livid, standing there in a long, gray nightshirt (if the situation hadn't been so dire, Chase might have laughed at the sight).

"It's Peeves, Professor. He threw this egg down the stairs."

Chase barely drew breath as Severus hurried up the stairs and stood beside Filch.

"Peeves?" Severus said softly, staring at the egg in Filch's hand. "But Peeves couldn't get into my office..."

_Why did Severus have a Triwizard egg in his office?_ Chase thought, bewildered.

"This egg was in your office, Professor?" Filch said, looking as confused as Chase felt.

"Of course not!" Severus snapped. "I heard banging and wailing-"

"Yes, Professor, that was the egg-" Filch began.

"-I was coming to investigate-"

"-Peeves threw it, Professor-"

"-and when I passed my office, I saw that the torches were lit and a cupboard door was ajar! Somebody has been searching it!"

This caught Chase's attention; why would someone search a professor's office? More importantly,  _who_ would?

"But Peeves couldn't-"

"I  _know_ he couldn't, Filch!" Severus snapped again. "I seal my office with a spell none but a wizard could break." He looked up the stairs; for a moment, Chase thought he was staring right at her and Damien; then she remembered that they were Disillusioned and completely invisible to both Severus and Filch. Then he looked back down the corridor. "I want you to come and help me search for the intruder, Filch."

"I... Yes, Professor, but-" Filch looked around hopelessly. Mrs. Norris weaved around his legs. "The thing is, Professor, the Headmaster will have to listen to me this time. Peeves has been stealing from a student. It might be my chance to get him thrown out of the castle once and for all!" He visibly brightened at the idea.

"Filch," Severus said through gritted teeth. "I don't give a damn about that wretched poltergeist. It's my office that's-"

He stopped talking abruptly, and then Chase heard it, too: The trademark _clunk, clunk, clunk_ of Mad-Eye Moody's wooden leg. Had she thought things couldn't get any worse? They were worse. If Severus didn't catch them, Moody and his magical eye would. Moody stopped at the bottom of the stairs. He looked up and Filch and Severus while they looked down to Moody. "Pajama party, is it?" He growled.

"Professor Snape and I heard noises, Professor," Filch said. "Peeves the Poltergeist throwing things around as usual. And then Professor Snape discovered that someone had broken into his off-"

_"Shut up!"_ Severus hissed.

Moody took a step closer to the bottom of the stairs. His eye was traveling over Snape, Filch, and (Chase nearly let out a despairing moan) stopped, for the briefest of seconds, right where she and Damien were standing. His mouth opened slightly in surprise.  _It's over,_ thought Chase wildly.  _No more prefect privileges. No more Tournament. We're going to be chucked out on our arses-_

"Did I hear that correctly, Snape? Someone broke into your office?"

"It is unimportant," Severus said coldly.

Chase blinked down at him. Severus was saying that his office being broken into wasn't important? And to  _Moody_ , of all people?  _Who are you, and what did you do to Severus Snape_ ?

"On the contrary," Moody growled. "It is very important. Who would want to break into your office?"

"A student, I daresay," Severus said tensely, a vein flickering at his temple. "It has happened before; potion ingredients have gone missing from my private stores. Students attempting illicit mixtures, no doubt."

"Reckon they were after potion ingredients, eh?" Moody said softly. "Not hiding anything else in your office, are you?"

"You know I'm hiding nothing, Moody, as you've searched my office pretty thoroughly yourself." Severus's voice had gone soft and dangerous, the vein at his temple pulsing more rapidly still.

"Auror's privilege, Snape," Moody said, his mutilated face twisting into a smile. "Dumbledore told me to keep an eye-"

"Dumbledore happens to trust me!" Severus said through clenched teeth. "I refuse to believe that he gave you orders to search my office."

"'Course Dumbledore trusts you," Moody said coolly. "He's a trusting man, isn't he? Believes in second chances. But me, I say there are spots that don't come off, Snape. Spots that never come off, you know what I mean?"

Almost convulsively, Severus seized his left forearm with his right hand. Chase realized, with a thrill of fear, that he was clutching his Dark Mark; with another, she realized that Moody, being a retired Auror, knew that Severus had been a Death Eater.

Moody laughed. "Get back to bed, Snape."

"You don't have the authority to send me anywhere!" Severus hissed, letting go of his arm; Chase could tell he was angry with himself for giving away his Mark. "I have as much right to prowl this school after dark as you do."

"Prowl away," said Moody menacingly. "I look forward to meeting you in a dark corridor sometime. You've dropped something, by the way." He pointed; Chase's eyes followed. Moody was pointing at an ancient piece of parchment lying some fifteen feet away from where she and Damien were standing. As Severus reached for it, though, Moody cried out " _Accio parchment!_ " and the parchment flew from Severus's long fingers into Moody's scarred hands.

"My mistake," he said. "It's mine. Must have dropped it earlier."

Chase thought vaguely that if she stopped trying to make sense of this whole scenario, her life might be less complicated, if only for a bit.

"Potter," Severus said quietly.

"What's that?" Moody asked, folding up the parchment and pocketing it.

_"Potter!_ " Severus snarled, looking up the staircase where the parchment had been laying. "That egg is Potter's egg! That piece of parchment belongs to Potter! I have seen it before. I recognize it! Potter is here! Potter, in his invisibility cloak!" He began making his way up the stairs, groping at the air like a blind man.

Chase shook her head.  _Of all the students Severus could have a hard-on for punishing at this school, doesn't it_ have _to be Harry Potter..._

"There's nothing there, Snape," barked Moody. "But I'll be happy to tell the Headmaster how quickly your mind jumped to Harry Potter."

"Meaning what?" Severus spat, pausing on the stairs with his arm still outstretched.

"Meaning that Dumbledore's very interested to know who's got it in for that boy." Moody limped nearer to the bottom of the stairs. "And so am I, Snape. Very interested."

Severus looked down at Moody. After a moment, he slowly lowered his arms. "I merely thought," he said in a voice of forced calm, "that if Potter is wandering around after hours again -it's an unfortunate habit of his- he should be stopped. For... For his own safety."

"Ah, I see," Moody said softly. "Got Potter's best interests at heart, have you?"

Severus and Moody stared each other down for a moment. Mrs. Norris, still weaving around Filch's legs, meowed loudly. Then Severus said, in a curt voice, "I think I will go back to bed."

"Best idea you've had all night," Moody growled. "Now, Filch, if you'll just give me that egg."

"No!" Filch said, clutching the egg. "Professor, this is evidence of Peeves's treachery-"

"It's the property of the champion he stole it from," said Moody. "Hand it over now." Filch did, looking as though someone had forced him to swallow a lemon.

Severus swept past Filch and Moody, obviously in a towering temper. Filch chirruped to Mrs. Norris and they too disappeared behind the door. Moody waited until they were out of earshot before turning back to the staircase. "All right," he growled. "Potter, Grant, and Carter, front and center. Cloaks and Disillusionment Charms off. Now!"

Chase lifted the enchantment off Damien, and they both stepped out from the shadows. In an instant Harry Potter appeared as well, his leg caught in the trick stair halfway down the staircase. "Harry!" Chase said, shocked. "So my uncle was right." She and Damien raced down to the stair above the trick one and pulled Harry free. "Are you all right?"

"Fine," he said, then he turned to Moody. "I was figuring out the egg's clue, Professor."

"I surmised as much, Potter," Moody said. "But you two," he growled, turning to Chase and Damien. "Doesn't take a genius to figure out what you were up to, either. You could have your prefects' rights stripped from you, at the very least; you'd be lucky not to be expelled. And you, Carter, you're a Triwizard champion. I thought you'd be a little smarter than that."

Damien's face flushed, and he looked down at his shoes. Chase, also embarrassed, looked directly at Moody. "I don't care if you tell Flitwick," she said. "But please, don't tell Snape. He'll kill me."

"And me," Damien said, not looking up from his sneakers.

"Don't worry about it," Moody growled. "You're not the first pair of lovebirds sneaking around this castle, and you won't be the last. But you'd best return to your common rooms now. I have to talk with Potter about this fascinating parchment of his..."

Chase and Damien nodded. The mood had been shattered; neither of them was eager to get caught by someone else -McGonagall, perhaps, or Severus- who wouldn't be so forgiving. Especially Severus, not with how angry he already was at Moody.

"Chase," Damien said, stopping at the portrait of the Fat Lady. "What was that your uncle grabbed on his left forearm?"

Chase glanced at the Fat Lady; she looked like she was asleep, but Chase was taking no more chances tonight. "I'll tell you tomorrow."

Damien nodded. "Good night." He kissed her on the forehead, then turned to the Fat Lady. "Wake up," he called.

The Fat Lady jerked awake and straightened up indignantly. "Don't even  _think_ of saying the password out loud until she's gone," she said, pointing at Chase.

"I was just leaving," Chase said coolly, and turned on her heel and strode off to Ravenclaw Tower.

_"What gets shorter the longer it lingers?"_ The eagle-headed knocker asked.

"Time," Chase said.

_"Correct."_ The door opened and Chase headed up to the seventh-year girls' dormitory, where she pulled on her pajamas and fell into bed. The question of how she would tell Damien that Severus had been a Death Eater, would go back into You-Know-Who's service if You-Know-Who came back, and that that would necessitate them and Damien's family to go into hiding, kept her tossing and turning sleeplessly for hours.


	5. Under the Black Lake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus tells Damien and Chase exactly what will happen if the Dark Lord returns. Meanwhile, Chase prepares herself for the second task.

**Chapter Five: Under the Black Lake**

“GET OUT, YOU BLASTED POLTERGEIST!” Severus roared. He’d entered his classroom to find it in complete disarray: Boxes of ingredients ripped open, crystal and glass vials smashed with their contents spreading to all corners of the dungeon, and Peeves cackling in the corner as he tossed a bicorn horn at Severus’s head. Peeves left, upending a case of rare herbs and cursing as he went.

Severus growled as he surveyed his classroom. Before today, he’d been vaguely amused by the caretaker’s fixation –dare he say, obsession- with getting Peeves thrown out of the castle. Right now, though, as he unstuck several more bicorn horns from the wall, he was more than ready to join Filch’s crusade.

“Professor?” Chase’s voice floated into the dungeon. “Have you got a moment?”

“No,” Severus said shortly, picking up a box that had once held porcupine quills.

The dungeon door opened anyway, and just as Severus turned to shoo Chase out of the room, he saw her shocked expression. “What happened?!” She looked at the small box of bezoars scattered near the center of the room.

“Peeves,” Severus said.

Chase nodded, drawing her wand and sweeping it over the beetle eyes closest to her. “Why does Dumbledore let him stay, again?” She asked as she funneled them into jars.

“Don’t ask me to fathom Dumbledore’s eccentricities; it’s too early,” he said, rubbing his forehead as he cast a Freezing Charm on some leaping toadstools before they could leap under the desk. He and Chase didn’t speak again until the room was put back in order, which took much longer than Severus would have liked. Of course, he would have preferred Peeves had left his room alone…

“Severus, I need you to help me talk to Damien,” Chase said as she put the last box of beetle eyes away on a high shelf.

“About the Dark Lord returning?”

“That, and about how you used to be a Death Eater and you’re spying on You-Know-Who for Dumbledore and exactly _why_ he should leave his mother and sisters to go into hiding with his girlfriend.” Chase turned to him, a smirk playing around her mouth. “Especially that last part. Since when are you okay with the two of us going off and living in sin?”

“You’re eighteen,” Severus said irritably. “And I’d have to believe in sin before I thought anyone was living in it.”

“Like I said. Since when are you so open-minded?”

Severus glared at her. “If you’ll bring him to my office after lunch, I’ll talk to the both of you then. And if you’ve asked all you need of me, leave. I have a class in ten minutes.”

“See you after lunch, then, sunshine,” Chase said, grinning as he snarled at her and walking out of the room as fast as she could without running.

 _One of these days,_ he thought irritably, _she’ll mouth off to exactly the wrong person_ _and get herself killed. Or cursed._

The morning was uneventful, aside from students brewing their potions incorrectly, so that he had time to plan exactly what he was going to tell Chase and Damien. Though he didn’t see what Chase thought was so difficult about it. The Dark Lord was returning. They would both be prime targets; Chase, because she was his niece; and Damien, because he was Muggleborn. _How much more straightforward can I make it?_

As Chase had promised, she returned with Damien to Severus’s office after lunch. Damien spoke first.

“Chase told me about what the Death Eaters did to Muggles and Muggleborns. And she told me that you used to be a Death Eater.”

“Whatever you may have heard from her about what she suspects from that time-” Severus began, but Damien cut him off.

“I wasn’t there; I’m not going to judge. And it’s not like you’ve ever given me a reason to believe you don’t like me for being Muggleborn or my family for being Muggles. I just want to know what we could be up against this time.”

“And Severus,” Chase said. “Don’t talk about me like I’m not here.”

Severus shot her an angry look, then turned to Damien again. “The Dark Lord may be desperate when he comes back. Dumbledore suspects that this time he’ll act as though he has nothing to lose.”

Damien nodded slowly. “Dad always used to say the most dangerous enemy is the one who’s got nothing to lose. So I understand why it’s important for Chase and me to stay off his radar. What about my mum and sisters? Is there a way for them to be hidden or protected?”

“Potentially; however, it may not be high on the Order’s list of priorities.”

“The Order-?”

“The Order of the Phoenix,” Severus explained. “Dumbledore’s resistance movement.”

“Couldn’t hurt to ask him, though,” Chase said. “It’s not like he’ll ignore you completely.”

“If you’d like,” Severus conceded. “I’d also suggest the both of you brush up on defensive spells.”

“Naturally,” Damien said. “Thank you, Professor.” He left, and Chase stayed behind.

“That went as well as I’d hoped,” she said, after the dungeon door had closed and Damien’s footsteps had faded.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Severus asked shortly as he sat down behind his desk.

“He’s worried. You more or less told him he’s got to sacrifice his family for my sake.”

“I said no such thing!”

“Even still. That’s what he heard.” Chase pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed wearily.

“Are you sure Dumbledore won’t put protecting his family on his to-do list if You-Know-Who comes back?”

Severus considered his answer carefully. “Put it this way, Chase. If you were Dumbledore, which would take more precedence: The entire wizarding population or one family of Muggles?”

“My point exactly,” she said. “Damien’s a military brat; he knows that strategy.”

“The only hope for them is to get out of the country, then.”

“And go where? All the girls know is life in Manchester. It’s not fair to them-”

“ _Fair_?” Severus said, with a hollow laugh. “We’re talking about a wizard who kills for _fun_ , Chase. Who are you to bring fairness into it?”

“Yeah,” she said, turning to the door. “You’re right. So why are we resisting, anyway?”

 _Me?_ Severus thought. _Because I’m not letting the creature that killed Lily win again._ Out loud, he said, “You figure out your own answer.”

XXX

“That was a lot of help,” Chase said angrily as she flung her bag down by the edge of the lake.

“Talking to your uncle earlier?” Damien said. “Actually, it was. For me, at least.”

“How so?” Chase pulled a crystal vial full of another sample of the gillyweed potion she’d made two weeks ago out of her coat pocket; tonight would be her last test run with it, and the second in the lake itself. Damien was there in case anything went wrong, equipped with a bezoar, an antidote to Chase’s potion, and a charm to instantly dry and warm someone who’d just come out of a freezing, quarter-mile-deep lake.

“It let me know exactly what we’re up against with You-Know-Who.” Damien pulled a blanket out of his bag and held it up so that no one could see Chase stripping down to a swimsuit. “Guerilla warfare, as opposed to strategic.”

“Non-military brat terms,” Chase asked, shivering as the cold January air hit her bare arms.

“Basically, it’s a series of ambushes,” Damien said. “It sounds like Dumbledore will never know where You-Know-Who is until after he’s there.”

“I suppose,” Chase said. “But don’t act like Severus didn’t make you choose between me and your family.”

“I don’t think I’ll even get the choice, honestly,” Damien said grimly. “And if I do, you already know who I’ll choose.”

She knew. And she wished he would change his answer. She said nothing, but drank the potion and dove into the lake.

Chase wasn’t much of a water person, but even she had to admit that the silence underwater was soothing to her over-filled mind. She took a gulp of water, feeling it pass through her newly-grown gills, and used her webbed fingers and toes to propel her forward. Her goal right now was to stay under for an hour; the first task might have put an emphasis on courage in the face of the unknown, but this one, for her, was about facing her fear of deep water. She pushed herself deeper, wordlessly lighting her wand tip and ignoring her heart pounding in her throat. She wasn’t planning on going all the way down, not tonight, but if she could stay under for an hour…

“It’s not like you had a whole lot of reason to stay down tonight,” Damien said as he Charmed Chase dry and held up the blanket for her to change behind. She had only managed forty-five minutes before her fear overtook her. “During the task, you’ll have the thought of me, at the bottom, having my heart stolen by maidens of the deep to sustain you.”

“You’ve never seen a real mermaid, have you?” Chase said, her voice muffled as she pulled a sweater over her head.

“Okay, then just me at the bottom.”

“That works.” She pulled on her coat. “I’ve got to get going; Flitwick wants three rolls of parchment on the Fidelius Charm by Thursday-”

“Chase, can we talk about the elephant in the room?”

Chase turned back to Damien. His eyebrows were raised and his arms were folded across his chest. “It’s just… Damien, I love you, and I know you love me. But if this whole thing goes to hell –if You-Know-Who comes back- just accept that it’s ludicrous to think both of us are going to survive.”

“I know,” Damien said. He took Chase’s chin in his hand and turned it up gently so that he was looking into her eyes. “And I know that I couldn’t live without you.”

“Yes you could,” Chase said. “I want you to choose your family, not me. You have your family; I don’t have anyone but you.”

“And your uncle,” Damien said.

Chase shook her head. “If he’s right, he’s living on borrowed time. He won’t make it through another war.”

Damien took a deep, patient breath. “Chase, you’re tougher than I am. If you lost me, you’d be sad, but you’d keep going. If I lost you, I couldn’t keep going. I’d still have my mum and sisters, but it wouldn’t be the same. It wouldn’t be right.”

Chase knew Damien was right, because she felt the same way. When he wasn’t around, everything in her life felt… Well, stupid. She didn’t know who she could talk to about it; as far as she knew, Severus had never had a girlfriend or any romantic interests, and Mrs. Grant’s husband wouldn’t come back. But if he and Severus both died, Chase wasn’t sure she could be as tough as Damien thought she was. For one, she’d be completely alone: No siblings, no other family, and certainly no room in her heart for anyone else. “I don’t know,” she said at last. “And I don’t want to think about it anymore tonight. I just want to get through this task and my Charms homework.”

Damien nodded. “I’ll walk you to the library.”

XXX

Chase stood at the edge of the lake, arms crossed over her chest and her vial of gillyweed potion held firmly in her hand. She was shivering in the cold morning air, and she wondered why the champions weren’t allowed to wear a jacket over their swimsuits. Harry Potter had yet to show up, and the second task was due to begin any moment. She wondered what would happen if he didn’t show at all. Would he be disqualified? Or would he just fall into last place? She wandered over towards the edge of the platform closest to the entrance, and also near where Vincent Crabbe and the other Slytherins were standing. Crabbe wolf-whistled at Chase, who responded with a Longbowman salute. Fortunately for both of them, Harry showed up at that exact moment.

“I’m here!” he panted, skidding to a halt from a full gallop and splattering Fleur Delacour with mud. Chase only just kept herself from snorting derisively at Fleur, who looked furious. She also noticed that Harry was wearing his school robes; apparently he hadn’t figured out the lake part until just now.

“Where have you been?” Percy Weasley said disapprovingly. “The task’s about to start!”

Ludo Bagman, who had also been peering around nervously for Harry, relaxed and let his face melt into a long grin. “Now, now, Weasley. Let him catch his breath!”

Chase thought he saw disappointment on Karkaroff’s and Madame Maxime’s faces. Obviously they’d thought Harry wouldn’t show up. _There’s sportsmanship for you,_ she thought disgustedly. But she didn’t have much time to mull it over; Bagman began spacing the champions on the dock at ten-foot intervals. Chase was on the very end. She stretched her arms over her head and popped her neck; as she did, she noticed Bagman leaning in to talk to Harry at the other end of the dock. What was that about? Harry massaged his ribcage, so maybe Bagman was just making sure he wouldn’t get a cramp and drown.

Bagman returned to the judges’ table and pointed his wand at his throat. “ _Sonorous._ ” Turning to the crowd, he said, “Well, all our champions are ready for the second task, which will start on my whistle. They have precisely one hour to recover what was taken from them. On the count of three, then.”

Chase uncorked the vial of potion and drank it quickly.

“One… Two… _Three!_ ”

Bagman’s whistle echoed shrilly over the lake, and Chase, Fleur, and Krum dove into the water. Chase barely had time to register how cold the water was before the potion took effect. Breathing easily through newly-grown gills on her neck, she propelled herself forward through the dark water with webbed fingers and toes. As she swam, she pulled her wand out of its holder on her leg and held it at the ready; in addition to merpeople, she knew grindylows and the giant squid called this lake home. She swam as far above the clumps of underwater foliage as she could while still moving forward and down.

When she had reached a point where she could no longer see the surface of the lake, she felt herself beginning to panic. Her heart started racing, and her throat seemed to be closing. _Think of Damien,_ she told herself firmly. _Think of Damien…_ The thought of never seeing him alive again was enough to force her to keep going forward. If she was right, she had a little more than forty minutes to find him.

In ten minutes, she heard the mersong again:

_An hour long you’ll have to look,_

_And to recover what we took…_

Chase spun around; if her ears weren’t deceiving her, the merpeople’s colony was in the complete opposite direction from the one she’d been swimming.

_Your time’s half gone, so tarry not,_

_Lest what you seek stays here to rot_

Furious with herself, she began swimming hard and fast in the new direction. She soon saw the village, along with what seemed to be the choir of merpeople singing the song to call the champions to them, and what looked like an underwater version of a village square. In the middle was a huge statue of a merperson; tied to the statue’s tail were Damien, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, and a very pretty little blonde girl Chase was sure was Fleur’s sister. They all appeared to be in a deep sleep, their heads lolling on their chests, fine streams of bubbles emerging from their throats.

Chase also saw Harry, who seemed to be having an argument with one of the merpeople and was pointing furiously at Granger. Swimming closer, she saw that his hands and feet had become webbed as well; apparently he’d used a gillyweed derivative, too. From what Chase could see, he had untied Weasley and was trying to untie Granger, and the merpeople would only let him take Weasley.

Chase swam toward Damien; at almost the same time, Harry turned around and saw her. “Got turned around,” she mouthed, stopping about three feet from Damien and using a Severing Charm to cut through his ropes. He fell forward, still asleep, and Chase grabbed him by his belt. “Fleur and Krum should be here soon.”

Harry nodded and tapped his wrist.

“You’ve got about twenty minutes,” Chase said. She shivered in spite of herself and began swimming toward the surface as hard as she could.

The swim back was much harder than the swim down, compounded by the fact that Damien was taller and heavier than she was. Every minute or so, Chase would run her free hand over her neck and see that her gills were still there. When the surface of the lake came back into her line of sight, she felt that her neck had smoothed out. She swallowed hard to give her body the illusion of breathing and kicked hard, already missing her webbed fingers and toes. She guessed that she was about ten feet from the surface, but the feeling of panic was coming back, and stronger than before. _Don’t panic; you’re almost there,_ she told herself. _Almost there… Just a little more to go…_

 _Ten feet… Eight feet… Six feet… Four feet…_ She felt water seeping into her nose and mouth. She exhaled forcefully and, with the last bit of her strength, pushed Damien up to the surface, kicking hard to follow him.

Their heads broke the surface within a second of each other, and Damien coughed a bit. “Well, that was interesting,” he said. He put his arm around Chase’s waist and helped her tread water until their feet hit the bottom.

Severus was standing at the water’s edge, next to Karkaroff, and helped pull Chase out of the lake when she was close enough for him to reach. “Are you all right?” He asked Chase, handing her a towel and letting Madam Pomfrey pull Damien into the tent.

“Yeah,” she panted. “And very cold,” she added pointedly.

At this, Severus pulled off his cloak and put it around Chase’s shoulders. The unusual gesture took her aback; he must have been worried about her. He pushed her toward the tent, where Madam Pomfrey wrapped an additional blanket around Chase and poured a gobletful of Pepperup Potion down her throat, which caused steam to pour out of Chase’s ears.

After she’d warmed up a bit, and woken up, Chase looked around the tent. Fleur Delacour was sitting on a bed near the door of the tent, looking thoroughly banged up; Chase wondered if grindylows hadn’t gotten the best of her. She turned to Damien, who was sitting on the bed next to her, steam pouring out of his ears. “You all right?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Now I’m above water again.” He moved over to Chase’s bed and sat next to her. “What about you?”

“I’ll be fine once I finish warming up.” The crowd started cheering outside the tent, and Chase looked around; Krum had just come back, with Hermione Granger in tow.

Now the only champion left to return was Harry. Chase and Damien watched the surface of the lake, along with the crowd and judges, for any sign of him. _Where is he?_ Chase thought impatiently. She was cold and tired, and she wanted to get back into her own clothes…

“Chase. _Chase_.” Damien was shaking her shoulder. “Chase, wake up. It’s over. You and Potter are tied for first. Next task is on the twenty-fourth of June.”

“’S’good,” Chase muttered sleepily, turning over with a small grunt.

“ _Get up_.” Severus’s harsh voice made Chase sit bolt upright. He was standing at the foot of the camp bed, arms crossed over his chest and an ugly look on his face. “And give me my cloak back.”

“I will not, I’m half-naked under here!” Chase said indignantly.

“Poor baby,” Severus sneered. “Volunteered to be a Triwizard champion and didn’t foresee an instance where you might end up cold and half-clothed. But if you don’t give me my cloak back…” He trailed off and held up what was clearly a change of clothes for her to see.

“Oh _thank you,_ wise sage!” Chase said dramatically, reaching for the jeans and sweater. “You are wonderful and gracious and kind. Now both of you, turn around!”

They did –Severus with a sour look; Damien trying to stifle a smile- and Chase pulled her clothes on. So the next task was almost four months away? _Excellent_ , she thought; maybe she could relax a little bit.


	6. One Mystery Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chase's father steps into the picture... Kind of.
> 
> EDITED 2/11/13: I wasn't happy with the ending, so I expanded it a little.

**Chapter Six: One Mystery Down**

The Saturday after the second task was the one Harry Potter had been looking forward to for a week. Sort of. He was still worried that Sirius would be found out, but Harry wasn’t one to break a promise. So on that cool March Saturday, he, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger set out for Hogsmeade. After milling about in the village for a while, and buying several pairs of socks for Dobby (to whom Harry was eternally grateful for the gillyweed), they set off and met Sirius at the edge of the village, cleverly disguised in his Animagus form as a large, shaggy black dog.

They made their way up to a cave on the side of the mountain. Once inside, Harry handed Sirius –who had turned back into a human again- his school bag, which was full of food they had nicked from lunch, and began discussing the events of the last few months.

After the four of them had dissected every point of the Triwizard Tournament –why Harry should be on the lookout for Igor Karkaroff; exactly what kind of man Barty Crouch, Sr., was, and why Sirius didn’t trust Snape even after Dumbledore’s approval- Sirius picked up the issue of the _Prophet_ announcing the four Triwizard Champions.

“About the other Hogwarts champion,” Sirius said, pointing to her picture. “What’s she like?”

“She’s okay,” Harry said. “Her name’s Chase.”

“She’s Snape’s niece,” Ron added. “I kind of feel bad for her-”

“Sirius? Are you all right?” Hermione asked worriedly.

For Sirius had gone rigid, looking at Chase’s picture. “I’m fine,” he said quickly, lowering the paper. Too quickly; Hermione’s eyebrows were raised in disbelief. “She looks like her mother,” Sirius said nonchalantly. “I knew her. She was a year under me and James at school.”

“Is that all?” Harry asked. “What was she like?”

“Rowen?” Sirius put on a smile. “Wild as the wind and pretty as a flower. Every boy in school wanted her. She was quite clever, as well, and Snape never wanted anyone going near her. Fortunately, she was in Ravenclaw-”

“Chase is in Ravenclaw, too!” Ron exclaimed.

“It tends to happen like that,” Sirius said. “But she got pregnant toward the end of her fourth year. She came back in September, but dropped out during the Christmas holiday. No one ever heard of her again.”

“Did… Did she ever tell anyone who the father was?” Hermione asked in a hushed voice.

After a moment’s hesitation, Sirius said, “No. She knew, but she never told. I think she was afraid to, honestly.”

He stood. “It’s getting late, and the three of you need to get back to the castle.” He looked particularly hard at Harry. “Now listen: I don’t want you lot sneaking out of the castle to see me. Just send me notes. And I want to know about anything odd going on. And _don’t_ leave the castle alone after dark; it would be an ideal opportunity for someone to attack you.”

“No one’s tried to attack me so far, except a dragon and a couple of grindylows,” Harry said drily.

“I don’t care,” Sirius said, scowling at him. “I’ll breathe freely again when this tournament’s over, and that’s not until June. And don’t forget: When you’re talking about me among yourselves, call me Snuffles.” He handed Harry the empty napkin and flask, then went to pat Buckbeak the hippogriff goodbye. “I’ll walk with you to the edge of the village. See if I can scrounge another paper.”

They wound their way down the mountainside, and at the edge of the village, Sirius allowed the three of them to pat him goodbye. After he had seen them off, he returned to his cave and studied Chase’s picture in the dying light.

XXX

Rowen Snape was sitting at the kitchen table of her tiny London flat, reading the _Evening Prophet_ , when she heard a knock at her door. “Who is it?” she called, turning around in her chair. No response. She went to the door and peered through the peephole. Finally, she unlocked and opened the door, and looked down at a large, shaggy black dog.

“Sorry, pup,” Rowen said. “There’s a no pet policy here- _Hey!_ ”

The dog pushed past her into the kitchen and transformed before her eyes into-

“ _You!_ ” Rowen slammed the door shut and drew her wand. “What are you doing here? You killed all those people, wasn’t that enough? I ought to call the Ministry on you-”

“Rowen, don’t!” Sirius said. “Look!” He dropped his wand and kicked it toward her. “I’m not here to hurt you, I promise. And for the record, I never killed anyone. I wanted to talk about Chase.”

Rowen lowered her wand slowly and surveyed Sirius. “What about her? And how long is it since you had a shower?”

“Too long,” he said drily. “And Rowen… Why didn’t you tell me about her?”

“Shower first, and I’ll explain it to you again,” Rowen said coolly. “Just off the kitchen.” She motioned in the direction of the bathroom. “I’ll see what I can get you for clean clothes.”

Fifteen minutes later, Sirius had dressed in the slightly-overlarge jeans and button-down shirt Rowen had found lurking in the bottom of her closet. “Odd choice,” he said. “These aren’t your brother’s.”

“No. The last tenant must have left them. Have a seat,” she said, gesturing to the chair opposite hers. After Sirius sat, she said, “Sirius, I didn’t tell you about Chase because I didn’t want you to know.”

“I’d figured that out, funnily enough,” Sirius said coldly. “What I didn’t understand is _why_. You knew I could have provided for her, and I heard what happened to you after you left school; don’t act like you couldn’t have used that help.”

“I’m not going to,” Rowen said, just as coldly. “But don’t act like you don’t know why.”

“It was a stupid thing,” Sirius said, desperation creeping into his voice. “James and I- you know what we were like together. We just got carried away.”

“No, Sirius, you and James didn’t get _carried away_ when it came to Severus. You _targeted_ him. And you knew I knew about it. Remember? That’s how you talked me into going out with you in the first place: You promised to leave him alone.” She shook her head. “I really thought you’d changed, did you know that?”

“What does any of this have to do with the fact that you kept me away from my child for eighteen years? I didn’t even know what my daughter looked like until two days ago! I might have passed her a hundred times since I escaped-”

“You were in Azkaban most of her life! And there’s another thing, Sirius, how do you think Chase is going to react when she finds out her father is a notorious mass-murderer? More importantly, how do you think she’ll react when she finds out her father is a notorious mass-murderer who bullied her uncle when you were in school together? Severus told me she already knows you hated each other then.”

“But she doesn’t know _why_ ,” Sirius said. “Rowen, couldn’t you talk to her-”

“No, I couldn’t,” Rowen said heavily. “She hates me.”

“What? Why?”

“Sirius, doesn’t it strike you as odd that _Severus_ raised her? He doesn’t like kids! He never wanted any, and yet here he is, raising my daughter.”

“And _why_ , pray tell,” Sirius said in clipped tones, “did _he_ raise her?”

“Because I… Went out of the country for a long time,” Rowen said shiftily. “After you went to Azkaban. Chase was six when she went to live with him. You couldn’t have, even if you weren’t in Azkaban; your name isn’t on her birth certificate.”

“Why were you out of the country?”

“I’m not discussing that with you,” she said firmly. “The point is I didn’t want Chase to have a bully father like mine. That’s why I didn’t tell you. That’s why she doesn’t know. And it’s also why I’m sincerely hoping you’re smart enough _not_ to go looking for her and tell her yourself.”

“You have no right to keep me from her!” Sirius yelled, standing up.

“What do you think she’ll do if she sees you?” Rowen stood as well, looking up at Sirius with a steely gaze. “She thinks you’re a crazed murderer! She knows the stories, and you don’t have any evidence on your side. _I’m_ not going to do anything to keep you from her, Sirius; you’ve done that all by yourself at this point.”

Sirius seemed to deflate under Rowen’s logic. He sat back down, looking at his hands. “I’ve sent her gifts,” he said quietly.

“That’s a kind gesture,” Rowen said. She remained standing, one hand on her hip. “Sirius, if something turns around she might be interested. Just wait, all right? Don’t make the same mistake I did and try to force your way into her life. If you push her, she’ll knock you flat.”

They sat in silence for another uncomfortable moment, then Sirius stood. “Thank you for your time, Rowen. And thank you for not calling the Ministry.”

“I’m still not sure that wasn’t the right choice,” Rowen said tersely. “Stay away from my daughter and my brother, if you know what’s good for you.”

“I thought you just said-” Sirius began, but Rowen cut him off.

“Severus ‘knows more Dark curses than half the seventh year’, remember?” She imitated Sirius’s voice. “You should; you and James started that rumor. And from what he’s told me, Chase is no slouch with defensive magic or hexes, either. In fact, he told me a rather charming story about one of his Slytherins being on the receiving end of one of her Stinging Hexes. Right in the privates.” She gave Sirius a half-smirk, her brown eyes sparkling with malice.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Sirius said, nodding. Then he transformed into the large, shaggy dog and left, turning the doorknob with his paw.

XXX

“It’s coming back,” Severus told Dumbledore, rolling up his left sleeve. The Dark Mark’s outline, now darkened to blood red, stood out strongly against the paleness of his skin. “Karkaroff’s too, stronger and clearer than ever.”

“Indeed,” Dumbledore said, looking hard at the Mark.

“Albus, I’ve spoken to Chase again about your offer,” Severus said, covering the Mark again and sitting in the chair in front of Dumbledore’s desk. “She is willing to take it, under the condition that her boyfriend’s family is hidden as well.”

“I will do what I can, Severus, but I cannot guarantee that they will be completely safe.”

“Which is exactly what I told her,” Severus said. “But she’s insisting on it.”

“Have you suggested that his family should leave the country?”

“Not to Grant himself, but to Chase. She thinks it would be _unfair_ to send them out of the country, when none of the boy’s sisters have ever lived outside Manchester before.” He smiled grimly. “Perhaps I’ve spoiled her more than I meant to.”

“Remember when I told you over Christmas that when the danger became immediate, she’d understand what you were trying to tell her?” Severus nodded. “She understands now. As for her insistence that her boyfriend’s family be hidden, does that not remind you of anything, Severus?”

It did. “She’s more altruistic than I was.”

Dumbledore smiled kindly at him. “You’ve raised her well. If she has any more concerns, send her to me and I’ll discuss them with her one to one.”

Severus nodded and began to stand. “Is there anything else?”

“As it so happens, there is. Regarding Chase, no less.” Dumbledore pulled a piece of parchment out of his desk. “I got this letter from your sister in the morning post. It seems as though one of the many mysteries of our world has been solved.”

“Which is?”

“When Rowen told you she was pregnant, did she ever tell you who her child’s father was?”

“No,” Severus said. “I assumed it was that Carter boy she dated in her fourth year. She gave Chase his surname, at any rate.”

“And it was a clever ruse. I don’t think Rowen gets enough credit for being clever, especially from you and Chase. But that particular man is not Chase’s father.”

“Oh?” Severus said, his interest only half-piqued. “So who is it?”

“Sirius Black.”

The words crashed on Severus like a wave, and he stumbled back to the chair. “What? How- No, don’t answer that; we both know how. Are you sure, Albus?”

“My assurance would not matter in this case,” Dumbledore said. “I cannot personally vouch for Chase’s paternity. Rowen, on the other hand, is sure. I’d suggest bringing it up with her if you have any questions.”

Severus nodded. “If that’s all you need of me…”

“You may leave,” Dumbledore said.

Severus stood and swept from the headmaster’s office. He had _plenty_ of questions for his sister, and she’d have to answer to Chase for them.

XXX

“Chase!” Severus yelled, turning around to her. “ _Get moving!_ ” It was the first really nice Saturday of the year, and Severus had made plans for Chase and Rowen to have another meeting. Chase, of course, was less than thrilled.

“I don’t want to see her, Severus!” Chase whined, deliberately taking her time catching up to him, so that by the time they were level with each other, he was furious.

“One, I don’t care. Two, grow up; we all have to do things we’d rather not. And three, _shut_ up,” he snapped, grabbing hold of her wrist. “We’re seeing her, and that’s the end of it.”

“Fine,” Chase said mutinously. “But don’t ask me to be happy about it.”

“I’m not asking you to,” Severus growled, starting to walk again. “I’m _telling_ you to see her. I don’t care how you feel about it.”

“There’s a cursed cauldron in your future,” Chase growled back, just barely keeping pace with him. “Just keep that in mind.”

“Aww, does someone need a nap?” Severus sneered. “Sounds like the baby is cranky.”

“Let go of me, you condescending bastard!” Chase dug her heels in and refused to take another step.

Severus tried pulling her along, finally giving up when he saw a few people staring at them. “Chase,” he sighed wearily. “What if I told you this is about your father?”

“What if I said I didn’t care?” Chase countered.

“Liar,” Severus said. “You told me you wanted to find out.”

“ _I_ will find out who my father is when _I’m_ damn well ready,” Chase growled. “And I’ll do it _without_ my neglectful bitch of a mother, _thank you._ ” She yanked her arm out of his grip, about-faced, and stalked away.

For a moment, he thought about following her. Then he turned and headed toward the dark alleyway alone, and apparated to Spinner’s End.

“I thought you said you were going to bring her!” Rowen said, in the same mutinous tone Chase had used, when she saw Severus approaching the house.

“ _Going to_ ,” he said, tapping the lock on the door with his wand. “Chase had other ideas.”

“And there’s no way you could have-” Rowen began.

“She’s eighteen,” Severus said, half-exasperated and half-exhausted. “And she listens to me when she wants to; she’s always been that way.” He sank into the old armchair in front of the fireplace and rubbed his forehead. “Sounds like another wild child we both knew, doesn’t it?”

Rowen ignored his last sentence.

He looked up at her, his head still resting on his hand. “Are you sure it’s Black?”

“Positive,” Rowen said.

“And why, pray tell, was it him?”

“Because… I don’t know, Severus. I was young and stupid.”

 _You’re still stupid_ , he thought, cringing slightly at how childish the thought sounded. Out loud he said, “And what does Black think about it?”

“He wants to get to know her.” Rowen shook her head, smirking a little bit. “More accurately, she wants her to choose him over you.”

“If he wants her that badly, he can have her,” Severus snapped, standing up and heading for the front door.

“Why are you still so afraid of him?” Rowen stood in front of Severus, her hands on her hips.

“I’m not afraid of him. Didn’t I just say-”

“That you’re afraid Chase _might_ decide she wants a relationship with Sirius, and in doing so cut off her relationship with you? Yes, Severus, that’s exactly what you said,” Rowen said firmly when Severus made a scathing noise in his throat. “And you’re afraid because it’s happened before, with-”

“ _Shut up!_ ” He drew his wand and pointed it at Rowen’s chin. “Don’t say that name in my presence!”

Rowen, however, smirked up at him. “So you are scared. Why? She thinks Sirius is a notorious mass-murderer, doesn’t she? Or did word get around to her that he didn’t kill all those people?”

“No,” Severus said, lowering his wand and forcing himself to calm down. “No, she doesn’t know he’s innocent.”

“Is he really?” She looked genuinely surprised. “Well, in any case. Don’t go looking for him, Severus. He already promised me he won’t go looking for her. Not that I set any store by his promises,” she added bitterly. “Not for about twenty years. And don’t tell her if she doesn’t ask.”

Severus turned toward the door, slamming it on the way out.  
  
Rowen couldn't understand, he thought as he made his way back down the dark alley and apparated back to Hogsmeade. On his way back to the castle, he kept thinking about Chase being Black's daughter. _And if she is... If my sister isn't just saying it to get attention..._ No, it couldn't be possible. Chase was nothing like Black. Well, maybe she was a bit too reckless for her own good... And she was taller than she probably should have been... And of course she had his eyes; there were no blue eyes in the Snape or Prince families. She even had a similar, bark-like laugh.  
  
Severus's heart sank. Chase was Black's daughter. He had been roped into raising Sirius Black's child. He had thought being sworn to protect James Potter's son was the worst blow his pride could receive, but this was too much.  
  
He wasn't quite sure how he arrived at the castle again, but once there, he heard the kind of racket from the Great Hall that could only mean it was time for supper. Not particularly hungry, he headed down toward the dungeons and decided to barricade himself in his office for the rest of the night. Once there, he locked the door and sat down at his desk. After staring blankly at the essays he really needed to grade, he sighed and opened the bottom drawer, pulling out a pint of firewhisky and a small, battered-looking book.  
  
If anyone besides Severus had looked at the book, they would have seen a decades-old series of notes on potion-brewing, complete with drawings and several lines crossed out. When he looked at it, however, he saw pictures of the only two people he really cared about, pressed between the pages and with Concealment Charms cast on them. He bypassed all of Lily's pictures and focused instead on Chase's.  
  
The one from her first year at Hogwarts, on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Damien Grant's mother had taken the picture and given it to Severus that Christmas. In it, Chase and Damien were leaning out of the window of one of the train's compartments, smiling and waving to the Grant family.

The picture of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team from 1991. Chase was kneeling in the front of the picture with the other Chasers, smirking at the camera. Severus realized her smirk was identical to his own, though it wasn't enough to keep him from seeing Black's face. Flitwick had given Severus this one; for some reason, his colleagues thought he was interested in having pictures of Chase, chuckling pityingly when he pointed out that he had to go home with her every summer. "They grow up fast," some with children of their own had said. "Someday you'll wish she was still small and running around the house."

And finally, the one from the Yule Ball. Chase looked like a queen in her dress robes; in the picture, she was gesticulating and smiling, clearly telling a story to a group of people.

He slammed the book shut and took a large drink of the firewhisky, trying to burn out the lump that had formed in his throat. How could someone he loved so much have been created by someone he _hated_ so much?


	7. The Other Side of the Coin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Chase finds out the truth of her past, her relationship with Severus threatens to unravel completely.

**Chapter Seven: The Other Side of the Coin**

 

The months leading up to the third Triwizard Task were some of the most pleasant Chase had ever experienced. She wasn’t worried about her N.E.W.T.s, since she didn’t have to take them, and she was confident that she could handle whatever the third task could throw at her.

 

If it hadn’t been for Severus’s strange behavior toward her, she might have called them the most pleasant months of her life, period.

 

In the past two months, he’d started treating her as though she were at least incompetent and at best deliberately not following his direction, even if she was doing everything he asked and doing it correctly. On more than once occasion he had lashed out at her, calling her names one moment and completely ignoring her the next. Chase couldn’t even pretend she understood it. She’d lived with Severus long enough to know he was moody and mercurial, but he’d never been cruel to her.

 

“That is weird,” Damien said when she told him one free period. “But I wouldn’t take it so seriously. I think he’s stressed out.”

 

“That’s not a new state for him,” Chase said.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

Chase rolled her eyes. “You know as well as I do that if he wanted to get rich quick, all he needs to do is shove a lump of coal up his arse and wait a few hours before shitting out a diamond.”

 

Damien snorted and looked over at her, grinning. “You’re a proper lady sometimes.”

 

“You love it,” she teased. Turning serious again, she said, “Whether or not he’s stressed out, I don’t like this. It all seemed to start ‘round the time I wouldn’t go home and talk with my mother, but I didn’t think he’d still be angry about it.”

 

“Do you know what I think it is, honestly?” Damien said. When Chase shook her head, he continued: “I think he’s sad.”

 

“Sad? About what?”

 

“Well… You, actually. He raised you, and in a little more than a month you’re going to move out and start your own life. I think he’s already starting to miss you, and he doesn’t want to go back to that house and be alone in it. Besides, he’s not good with that communication thing.”

 

“Meaning?”

 

“Chase, when was the last time he gave you a straight compliment?”

 

“Point taken. So you think he’s just fighting empty-nest syndrome?”

 

“Could be. Why don’t you try talking to him? You know he doesn’t initiate that kind of conversation.”

 

“Maybe…” Chase trailed off and looked down at her notes.

 

“Maybe?”

 

“He gets a _look_ every time I walk by him, I’ve noticed.”

 

“What kind of _look_?”

 

“The kind he usually saves for Potter.”

 

“Oh,” Damien said, his eyebrows rising. “That ‘I would eat your liver if Dumbledore wouldn’t hand me straight over to the dementors’ _look_.”

 

“Aye, that’s the one.”

 

“Jesus.” He looked around and lowered his voice in mock-seriousness. “Check and see if he’s taken out a life insurance policy on you.”

 

XXX

 

“You stir it counter-clockwise _seven_ times!” Severus snarled at Chase one afternoon, when she’d offered to help him brew some potions to re-stock the hospital wing and, hopefully, figure out why he was treating her so strangely.

 

“I know! I was on my _sixth_ stir!” she snapped back. “I’ve done this before, Severus, many times.”

 

“Then why is your potion turning brown?” He asked, a nasty grin spreading across his face.

 

Chase looked into her cauldron; sure enough, her Pepperup Potion, which was supposed to be white, had turned a muddy color. “Because you made me lose count when you yelled at me.”

 

“If you want to be a potion master’s apprentice, you must learn to focus your attention.”

 

“Who says I want to be a potion master’s apprentice?” Chase said, her eyebrows raised. “ _I_ said I wanted to go into the Department of Mysteries, remember? Now tell me how to put this straight,” she said, indicating the brown potion.

 

“Figure it out yourself,” he growled, turning back to his cauldron.

 

Chase straightened up and crossed her arms over her chest. “What is your problem with me?”

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Severus replied carelessly, killing the flame under his cauldron.

 

“Like hell you don’t. For one, you treat me like a complete stranger. For another, I thought you only tried to sabotage Gryffindors’ potions. Which you should really stop doing, it’s mean.”

 

“Life isn’t fair,” Severus said dismissively. “And I don’t treat you any differently than I would my other students.”

 

“How many of them do you blow off like this?” She shot back.

 

“My apologies, Princess; I hadn’t realized the earth had shifted its orbit and now revolves around you.”

 

Chase rubbed her forehead in frustration. “You are fucking impossible.”

 

“Watch your mouth.”

 

“Can’t do it, Severus, my eyes don’t move that way,” The sarcastic sneer flew out of Chase’s mouth before she realized what she was saying.

 

“Get out,” Severus said, still not looking at her.

 

“Make me!” Chase knew she was acting childishly, but she was fed up with her uncle and his odd behavior. She didn’t deserve this, and after all she’d only offered to help-

 

She heard the door open. “Severus, if I could intrude for a moment?” Chase and Severus turned to the sound of Dumbledore’s voice. “Ah, Chase, good to see you. Can I have a moment with your uncle alone?”

 

“Have the rest of the day with him,” Chase said. “Rest of the week, for that matter. Maybe he’ll even cooperate with you.”

 

“ _Will you get out of here!_ ” Severus snapped. “And while you’re at it, grow up.”

 

“Oh that’s rich, coming from the overgrown _boy_ who wrecked my potion!”

 

Severus rounded on Chase, who stood her ground, jaw set and hands on her hips, and drawn up to her fullest height –six inches shorter than him. “Young lady, I have had it with you-”

 

“And the feeling’s mutual-”

 

“If I may interrupt,” Dumbledore said, his voice raised slightly above Severus and Chase’s snarls. “What is going on between you?”

 

“What’s going on is that he’s impossible!” Chase said. “I come down here to help him brew some more Pepperup Potion for Madam Pomfrey and he decides the appropriate response is to snap at me and fuck up my potion. And furthermore-” She made a choking sound as her tongue glued itself to the roof of her mouth.

 

“I have told you already, _watch your language_ ,” Severus growled, lowering his wand. “Especially in the presence of the Headmaster. And if you even think of it, I’ll bind your fingers.”

 

Chase settled for crossing her arms over her chest and glowering at him.

 

“Severus, please remove the Tongue-Tying Hex,” Dumbledore said pleasantly. “And Chase, do watch your language; an intelligent, well-educated young woman like yourself surely has a larger vocabulary than that.”

 

_Don’t tell me what words I can and can’t use, either of you,_ Chase fumed to herself as she lowered her arms and felt her tongue loosening. Out loud, she said, “So what happened was this: I came down to help him with brewing the new stock of Pepperup, like I said, and he made me lose my count stirring, _and_ he’s been doing this for months!”

 

“Define months,” Dumbledore said.

 

“About two months,” Chase said. “I think it started when he tried to get me to go back home and talk to my mother.”

 

Dumbledore’s brow furrowed, and he turned to Severus. “You haven’t told her?”

 

“I considered it information given on a need to know basis,” Severus answered dismissively.

 

“And she does need to know. You shouldn’t keep it from her.”

 

“We have more important things to discuss, Headmaster-”

 

“Hold up,” Chase said, turning to Dumbledore. “What do you know about me that I don’t and probably should? And you,” she added, turning to Severus. “You’d better have an ironclad excuse for not telling me.”

 

“Go on, Severus,” Dumbledore said. His tone was light, but a shift in Severus’s expression told Chase this command was not to be ignored.

 

“Very well,” Severus said. “Chase, the reason you needed to talk with your mother was a certain revelation about your past.”

 

“Which was…?” Chase raised her eyebrows.

 

“The man who has been claiming to be your father and sending you gifts for the last eight months is…” Severus looked as though he was trying to swallow a particularly sour lemon. “Sirius Black. Your mother has confirmed to myself and Dumbledore that he is, indeed, your father.”

 

Chase felt like she was hearing the words underwater after a nasty blow to the head. It didn’t make sense; her father, Sirius Black? The notorious mass-murderer and only person ever to escape from Azkaban was _her father_? “That’s not possible,” she said hoarsely.

 

“And yet all the evidence points to this being the truth,” Dumbledore said quietly.

 

“But…” Chase struggled to find the next argument. “I’ve seen my birth certificate. My father’s listed as being a Jason Carter-”

 

“The name of a minor romantic interest your mother had the year before you were born,” Severus said. “Just accept that he’s not your father and-”

 

“And what?” Chase snapped. “Let you keep blaming me for that accident? Let me give you a quick lesson in the facts of life, Severus: _People don’t choose their parents!_ If they could, you’d have chosen better than the monster you had.”

 

Severus had no response to this; instead, he and Chase coldly stared each other down until Dumbledore said, “Chase, I am sorry you had to find out this way. This information should not have been kept from you.” He shot Severus a deeply disapproving look. “And I also understand that this is difficult for you to accept. I ask you now to leave this dungeon and return to your dormitory, and stay there for the rest of the evening.”

 

“I can’t,” Chase said dully. “I have prefect duties tonight.”

 

“I will send Professor Flitwick and Mr. Filch a note explaining that you need tonight off,” Dumbledore said. “Allow yourself time to understand all of this.”

 

Chase nodded and left the dungeon, her mind fuzzy and echoing with only one thought:

 

_My father is a notorious mass-murderer and escaped prisoner._

 

XXX

 

At one o’clock in the morning, Chase, who had been tossing and turning for hours, got up, cast a Disillusionment Charm on herself and went down to her secret room in the Transfiguration corridor. To her surprise, Damien was there as well, standing in the corridor when she arrived. “What are you doing here?” She whispered, tapping the spot on the wall that made the door appear and ducking inside.

“I felt like sleeping down here tonight, but I couldn’t remember where to tap my wand to open it.” He followed Chase into the room with a sheepish grin. “I need you and your photographic memory for that kind of thing. So, how’d talking with your uncle go?”

Chase turned down the sheets on the bed, giving Damien a non-committal grunt in reply.

“He’s still being stubborn?” Damien said, opening a drawer on his side of the bed.

“Is he ever not stubborn?” Chase lay down on the bed and pulled the blankets up to her chin. Damien leaned over to kiss her. “Not tonight,” Chase said wearily, turning her head away from him.

“Chase, what’s bothering you?”

“Nothing, I’m just not in the mood tonight.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about.” Damien sat down on the edge of the bed and put his hand over hers. “Tell me what’s bothering you.”

“It’s nothing important.”

“Does it have to do with you talking to your uncle today?”

Grunt.

“Sorry, didn’t catch that.”

Chase turned on her side, back to Damien.

“Chase, come on; you’re well out of it. I just want to know what’s bothering you-”

“My father is Sirius Black.”

There was a ringing silence, then Damien said, “Who told you that?”

“A certain bat of the dungeons, aided by the headmaster.”

“That’s rough.”

“Preaching to the choir, babe.”

“So… You have any plans to talk to him?” Damien said lightly.

“Yeah: With hot tongs and a dull knife, both applied to his testicles.”

Damien’s eyes widened, and he turned partly away from her. “Note to self,” he muttered, pretending to write on a pad of paper. “Tell Chase _everything_ or lose your balls.”

In spite of her bad mood, Chase laughed. “That’s the first good thing I’ve heard all day.”

“But you are going to talk to him again, aren’t you?” He leaned back on the bed.

“What do I have to say to him? That I’m sorry my mother fucked Sirius Black and one of his swimmers hit her egg? No,” Chase continued, turning onto her side to face Damien. “I don’t want to talk to him, if you want the truth.”

“Do you want me to try?”

“Not particularly. I like having you around.”

“What’s the worst he can do to me? Run me out of his office? Fail me on my next essay? Like I care,” Damien snorted. “Besides, you said Dumbledore was there and heard him tell you?” When Chase nodded, Damien continued. “So he’s probably been talked to by Dumbledore, too.”

“He’s been talked to by Dumbledore about a lot of things,” Chase said. “Most of which he ignores. I don’t see how-”

“Just let me handle this one, okay?” Damien said. “I can’t promise any result, but not talking isn’t going to make it any better.”

Chase sighed inwardly. She knew Damien was only trying to help, but hadn’t ten years of being around her and Severus tuned him into the kind of person Severus was? Out loud she said, “All right. If you want to try and talk with him…” _But it’s not going to help._

XXX

“Professor?” Damien Grant’s voice called, followed by a knock on Severus’s office door.

“The door is open,” Severus called, not looking up from the stack of essays he was grading. He heard the door open and click shut, Damien’s footsteps crossing the room to his desk, and a chair scraping across the floor as he sat down.

“Chase told me what happened yesterday.”

“Did she now,” Severus said, completely uninterested.

“Don’t you think you’re being a little unfair about this, Professor? I mean, she didn’t ask for any of this-”

“Grant, let’s make one thing very clear,” Severus said, looking up and putting his quill down. “It’s none of your business. The fact that Chase has a big mouth and little control over it is the only reason you know.”

“For what it’s worth, _yes_ , it is my business,” Damien replied calmly. “I love Chase. I want her to be happy, and right now, she isn’t. She’s hurt, Professor. She feels like you’re rejecting her.”

Severus raised an eyebrow.

“You’re the only parent figure she has,” Damien went on. “She loves you like a dad, and really, for all intents and purposes you _are_ her dad.”

“So I’m to take responsibility for her hurt feelings?” Severus sneered.

“Not exactly. But you should take responsibility for saying and doing the things that hurt her.” Damien stood. “Just my two cents. Take it or leave it.”

“I’m flattered you trust me with that choice,” Severus growled.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” Damien backpedaled. “But, you know, just think about it.” He started for the door, turned as if he were going to say something else, but seemed to decide against it and left, shutting the door with a definitive click behind him.

Severus sat down and tried to focus on his essays again, but found Chase’s hurt expression, when she’d found out the truth, clouding his ability to think straight. He sighed and rubbed his eyes in weariness.

XXX

On the morning of June twenty-fourth, Chase sat at the Ravenclaw table in the Great Hall, staring at a cup of coffee as though she were trying to burn a hole in it. She could feel a muscle twitching in her jaw, and she was thinking so hard about what might await her in the maze later that she didn’t notice Severus walking up to her at the table. She jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder, and twisting to see its owner, she let out a dispirited, “Hullo.”

“Good luck today,” Severus said, clapping her on the shoulder once more and moving on to his place at the professor’s table.

Chase blinked, then looked up at Severus retreating back. He didn’t look at her again until he’d taken his seat. When his eyes met hers, she had a sudden flash of what was going on in his mind. He was sorry for how he’d treated her in the last few months, and could she forgive him? She nodded imperceptibly, and as though this were a signal, they both looked down at their plates.


	8. The Maze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is here.

“Oh, Chase, there you are,” Professor Flitwick said as he approached Chase at the table.

 

“Hello, Professor,” Chase said.

 

“I just wanted to let you know, the Champions are meeting with their families in the antechamber over there,” Flitwick said, motioning towards the small room where Chase and the other Champions had received their instructions in October.

 

“Oh. Okay. But that won’t be for another three hours, right?” Chase started to take a sip of coffee.

 

“Pardon?”

 

“Severus doesn’t have a prep this morning, remember? He’s got his fourth and sixth years taking their Potions finals today.”

 

“Oh, no, not Severus,” Flitwick laughed. “Your mother is there.”

 

Chase spluttered and coughed as she swallowed her mouthful of coffee, accidentally spitting some on Flitwick. “Sorry,” she gasped, and performed a silent  scourgify on his robes.

 

“I didn’t think it would be that big a surprise,” Flitwick said calmly. “I will say this, though: You look just like she did at fifteen.”

 

Chase made a noncommittal noise and nodded. As Flitwick walked away, she pushed away the rest of her breakfast, her appetite killed by the mingling of embarrassment and anger that suddenly welled up in her chest.

 

“Hey, honey.”

 

“‘Lo,” Chase said dully as Damien sat down next to her.

 

“What’s the matter? Nerves?”

 

“I wish,” Chase said, and told Damien what Flitwick had told her. “I mean, neither of them can really expect I’d want to see her, can they?”

 

Damien picked at the bacon on Chase’s plate, then, seeming to decide that it wouldn’t help him, he sighed. “I’m not saying you don’t have a right to your feelings, but Chase, please, can’t you give her a chance?”

 

Chase had known he’d say that. She also knew it was exactly what she didn’t want to hear. “So how do I get around these feelings I’m entitled to?”

 

“I don’t know. I just know I can’t stand you and your uncle rowing like you just did.” He put an arm around her waist. “That one hurt you more than it hurt him.”

 

“Too fucking right,” Chase muttered.

 

“Chase, I’ll be honest, I’m starting to get a little sick of talking about this,” Damien said, a definite edge to his voice. “I don’t have the answer you want, and you don’t want to just let this whole thing go. Not that I’m surprised,” he said. “But just do you, okay?” He kissed her on the forehead. “I’ll see you before the Task, all right?” Then he left, heading to Gryffindor Tower for some last-minute studying before his Transfiguration N.E.W.T.

 

Chase left a minute later, heading for the library. All things considered, she thought she’d rather be taking her Transfiguration N.E.W.T. today, too.

 

“Where are you going?” Severus’s voice brought her to a halt. Chase turned and saw him leaning against the bottom pillar of the marble staircase.

“Away from  her, ” she replied icily. “And by the way, thanks for springing her on me, right after I thought you’d actually been sorry for being a bellend.”

 

Severus expression stiffened, then he grabbed her upper arm and pulled her into a small, unused classroom, where Peeves was busy drawing unflattering caricatures of the Triwizard Champions on the blackboard. “Out!” Severus barked at Peeves.

 

“And mine aren’t that big!” Chase snapped, looking at her drawing’s bosom.

 

Peeves blew a raspberry and flew backwards out of the room. Severus shut the door behind him, then rounded on Chase.

 

“I am going to tell you this one more time,” He growled. “She is your  mother . You owe her at least a bit of your time.”

 

“I don’t owe her a damn thing,” Chase returned, her voice still cold. “If anyone owes anyone anything in this situation,  she owes  you , for raising me while she was off slagging around Europe.”

 

“She was not ‘slagging around Europe’.”

 

“Then what was she doing for eleven years, hm? Because she sure as hell wasn’t raising me like she should have done!” Chase could feel tears starting to form under her lids.  Not now, she thought desperately.  I can’t let him see me weak now…

 

“I don’t know what she was doing, Chase, and that’s why you need to talk to her,” Severus said. He seemed to have realized that Chase was agitated, and his tone was gentler than it had been. “It’s none of my business. You’re the one who should hear it.”

 

“Why me?” Chase blinked furiously. “I don’t care, Severus, what do I have to do to make you believe that?”

 

“Start not caring about it, instead of saying you don’t, for one,” he said, his voice brusque again. “In the meantime, go sit in that room and converse with her, and for once in your life, be  pleasant .”

 

“I’ll see her in hell first.”

 

“Young lady, I have had enough of this,” Severus snapped. He grabbed Chase’s arm again and began steering her toward the door. “You  will go back into the Great Hall. You  will sit at the same table as your mother. You  will converse with her, and you  will be civil. Understand?”

 

“No, I will  not !” Chase snapped back, wrenching her arm out of his grip with a significant effort. “And don’t touch me again.”

 

With a snarl, Severus moved toward Chase. Not knowing if he was going to grab her again, or if he was going to hit her, she ducked under him, tears now falling thick and fast down her face. She wrenched open the door and sprinted up the marble staircase toward Ravenclaw Tower, where she stayed until suppertime.

 

XXX

 

“Chase, hold on a moment,” Damien said. He and Chase were standing at the entrance to the Great Hall just after supper, and Professor Flitwick had just told Chase it was time for her to go to the Quidditch pitch, which had been converted into a maze for the third task.

 

“Giving me a kiss for good luck?” Chase said, smiling.

 

“One better,” Damien said, grinning as he put a small, circular, metal object in her hands. “My dad’s compass. You’ll need to know which way’s north in that maze, and you can’t see the lake from inside it, I’m pretty sure.”

 

“Thanks,” Chase said, pocketing the compass.

 

“And about that kiss…” Damien teased.

 

“Cheeky,” Chase said, standing on her toes to kiss him quickly on the lips. “I’ll have a better one later, I promise,” she added as she dashed out of the Great Hall.

 

When she, Harry, Krum, and Fleur had gotten down to the now-unrecognizable Quidditch pitch, Chase saw that several of the staff members had red stars on their hats, except for the gamekeeper, Hagrid: His was on the back of his coat.

 

Professor McGonagall stepped forward. “We will be patrolling around the outside of the maze,” she said, indicating the red-star staff members. “If you should get into trouble and wish to be rescued, send up red sparks, and one of us will come and get you. Do you understand?”

 

Chase and the rest of the champions nodded.

 

“Off we go, then!” Ludo Bagman said, seeming as boisterous as ever. The champions followed him to the entrance of the maze.

 

“Welcome to the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament!” Bagman’s magically-magnified voice boomed out over the crowd. “The current standings: Tied for first place, with eighty-five points each, Chase Carter and Harry Potter of Hogwarts School In second place, with eighty points, Viktor Krum of Durmstrang Institute! And in third place, Fleur Delacour of Beauxbatons Academy!”

 

When she heard her and Harry’s names, Chase scanned the audience. Severus was sitting with the Slytherins, applauding politely. Stricken, she turned to the blue-and-bronze-clad Ravenclaw bleachers, where Flitwick and the rest of Ravenclaw House were applauding her as enthusiastically as the Gryffindors were for Harry.

 

“On my whistle, Mr. Potter and Miss Carter,” Bagman said. Both Chase and Harry turned their backs to the audience and looked at the entrance of the maze. “Three, two, one!”

 

Bagman blew a short note on his whistle, and Chase and Harry entered the maze, where the sounds of the cheering audience were almost immediately silenced. As if by some agreement, they both lit their wands, and then they walked together until they hit a fork in the path.

 

“See you,” Harry said, taking the right fork. Chase didn’t respond, but took the left path, pulling Damien’s compass out as she did. She heard Bagman’s whistle again, and knew that Krum had entered the maze. She looked down at the compass, which showed her that north was to her right. Knowing she’d need to go northwest to get to the center of the maze, she pocketed it and kept close to the hedges, resolving to take the first right turn she came to.

 

That right turn led to her being caught completely off-guard by the most hideous creature she’d ever seen in her life.

 

It looked like a giant mix between a lobster and a scorpion, about ten feet long and covered with a thick, gray armor that Chase could immediately tell was impenetrable. There was no way past it, and if she went back the way she’d come, she’d lose too much time and progress toward the Cup.  If I can slip under it… She took a tentative step toward the beast, and just barely dodged a jet of flame the thing shot from some part of its anatomy; Chase didn’t really care enough to find out the particulars.

 

Go through the wall. The idea occurred to her as suddenly as if lightning had just struck. She examined it quickly; in spite of its thickness, it was still just a series of shrubs, and she thought a couple of good Reductor Curses could blast a hole in it large enough for her to crawl through—

 

The creature shot another jet of flame in Chase’s direction. “ REDUCTO! ” She screamed, pointing her wand at the maze wall. Immediately a hole appeared; not entirely big enough, but Chase dove through it regardless, pulling herself through the branches and brambles until her hands hit solid ground a few feet later.

 

“They could have used snakes!” She muttered angrily as she pulled herself out of the shrubbery. “Or fire crabs, or an acromantula, for God’s sake. But  no-oo , they went with… Whatever the fuck that thing was.” She hit the ground and sprang back to her feet, brushing leaves off her clothes and wishing she knew a good spell to remove sap from one’s hair. Then she pulled out Damien’s compass from her pocket and held it up so she could see where it was pointing. “That way,” she mumbled, pointing to the path right in front of her. As she started down that direction, she muttered, “I will be  so glad when this is over.”

 

In the distance, she heard Fleur Delacour scream, the sound of which made Chase’s hair stand on end. She didn’t like the Veela much, but she hoped nothing too horrible had happened to her.  Just enough to smudge her pretty face , she thought.

 

She trotted along the maze, occasionally checking her compass to see if she was still on the right path, and turning when she strayed too far east. Along the way, she ran into a Hinkypunk, which she defeated with a Knockback Jinx, and a patch of Devil’s Snare, which she used a flame spell on.

 

Chase checked the compass again. This time it showed her heading northwest, right to the center of the maze. Feeling slightly more confident, she picked up her pace, feeling as though she’d seen the light at the end of the tunnel.

 

After about twenty feet, she saw someone coming toward her. No, not  toward her;  at  her. She stopped, but the other person didn’t; as it came closer, she realized it was Krum. Furthermore, she realized it was Krum out of his right mind. He was bearing down on her with an air that suggested he wouldn’t think twice about cursing her into a thousand tiny pieces, or at least putting a Full Body-Bind Hex on her and sending up red sparks, so that she would be rescued and disqualified.

 

Chase saw Krum stop and raise his wand. Immediately she raised her own, silently casting a Stunning spell. Krum fell before he could get the first syllable out. Chase walked over to him and took a closer look. Sure enough, Krum’s eyes were curiously glazed, suggesting to Chase that someone was controlling him.  Who, though? she thought, plucking his wand from his hand and using it to send up red sparks.  Did he attack Fleur back there? She replaced his wand and went on her way.

 

After ten minutes of walking, she came to another fork in the road, and consulted the compass again, which pointed her to the right path. After about a hundred yards, she saw the light from the plinth where the Triwizard Cup was sitting, and she picked up her pace to a jog. Finally she came to the open space in front of the plinth, and broke into a run. She was going to get the Cup! She was going to win the Triwizard Tournament!

 

“CHASE!” Harry Potter’s voice bellowed from behind her. “ON YOUR LEFT!”

 

And then Chase saw it: An acromantula, ten feet tall and its pincers clicking madly, running straight at her. She hurtled out of its path, avoiding collision, but tripping in the process. Her wand flew out of her hand, and the acromantula was coming back for another shot at her.

 

“ Stupefy! ” Harry yelled behind the spider. “ Impedimenta! STUPEFY!” Though the spells didn’t have any impact on the animal, it turned and ran at Harry instead. Chase ran to the spot where her wand had landed and picked it up. Turning, she saw that the spider had lifted Harry completely off the ground. Harry was kicking at it, and she saw (with a sympathetic wince) his leg hit one of the pincers. “ Expelliarmus! ” he yelled, and the spider dropped him. Harry landed on his injured leg, which crumpled underneath him.

 

Chase ran to his side. “Stunning spell, on three!” Harry nodded and raised his wand. “One, two, three- STUPEFY!”

 

Their combined spells worked, and the acromantula fell over, unable to move. Chase stood up, trembling from head to foot, and turned to Harry. “Let’s have a look at that leg,” she said.

 

“It’s all right,” Harry said, standing up and trying to put weight on it. Chase saw him just barely suppress a yelp of pain.

 

“No it’s not,” She told him flatly. “Sprained, at least. I can heal it.”

 

“No, really, Chase,” Harry said. “Just go. You were going to get the Cup anyway.”

 

Chase looked at the Cup. It was just sitting there, so tempting… And she was so close… “No,” she said. “We’re both getting it.”

 

“What?” Harry said.

 

“We’re both going to touch the Cup. We’ll take it for Hogwarts. Each of us gets a thousand Galleons in prize money, which is great for me because Damien and I were going to do some traveling after we’re finished at Hogwarts, and it’s a nice little starter fund, too.”

 

“You don’t have to be noble, you know,” Harry snapped.

 

Chase rolled her eyes. “If I were being noble, Harry, I’d have sent up red sparks and let McGonagall or one of the others come and get you. Now let me heal that leg of yours, get up, and we’ll touch the Cup together. We both win.”

 

Harry hesitated, then nodded. Chase walked over to him and knelt beside his injured leg. “ Episkey ,” she muttered. Harry stood, and his expression told Chase his leg was healed. They both walked toward the Cup, and, with one final look at each other, they touched it.

  
Immediately Chase felt a jerking motion around her middle, and she and Harry were being transported.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'm baaaaaa-ack! All I can say is, writer's block is a bitch.


	9. The Return of Lord Voldemort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's back.

Chase gasped as she landed hard on the ground. A second later, she felt Harry hit the ground beside her. "What just happened?" Harry asked, pushing himself up onto his knees.

 

"Search me," Chase said, also sitting up and looking at him. "Is this part of the maze?"

 

"I don't think so." He looked around. Chase followed his example, and saw, close to them, a six-foot marble headstone, shaped like an angel. "Chase… I think this is a graveyard."

 

Chase looked at the cup. "It's a Portkey," she muttered wonderingly. Then she stood up and pulled out her wand. "Wand at the ready, Harry; I've got a bad feeling about this."

 

"Good idea," he said, pulling out his wand and standing back-to-back with Chase. He froze suddenly. "Chase! Someone's coming," he whispered.

 

"Which direction?" She whispered back.

 

"There." He pointed to his left, and Chase's head followed.

 

For a second, she just stared, confused. Someone was coming towards them; a man who was short, squat, and becoming clearer with every minute, and carrying a large bundle in his arms. A cold, high-pitched voice hissed, " _Kill the spare!_ "

 

Chase didn't have time to think. She hollered, "HARRY, GET DOWN!", turned around, and tackled him. He cried out in pain; she didn't care if she'd hit him hard, all that mattered was keeping both of them alive until they could reach the Portkey again.

 

" _Avada Kedavra!_ "

 

Harry and Chase had fallen behind a large grave marker. It took the full force of the Killing Curse, shattering the stone and showering them with debris. She pushed herself off Harry and ducked behind another headstone. "Go!" She shouted, pointing at the Cup. "Go to the Portkey!"

 

He shouted something back to her, but she couldn't hear what he was saying.

 

" _You idiot!_ " The cold voice hissed. “ _She’s there! Kill her!_ ”

 

The short man raised his wand again. Chase, crouching behind the headstone, raised her wand and thought Silencio!, jabbing her wand at him. The man waved his wand, but no flash of green light came out.

 

" _Never mind, Wormtail, never mind!_ " The cold voice said. " _I will kill her myself, later; just keep her out of the way._ "

 

 _Wormtail?_ Chase thought. Before she could think anything else, the man called Wormtail had pulled her up by the wrist. She decided not to fight; he might not be able to cast a Killing Curse at her without a voice, but she knew there were plenty of non-verbal spells he could use to at least maim her. He tied a gag around her mouth and tied her to the six-foot marble headstone, making sure she was tied fast before he went off to Harry and tied him to the other side of the headstone.

 

From where she was tied up, Chase couldn’t see anything, nor could she turn her head. But what she couldn’t see, she could hear.

 

Wormtail spoke (she assumed he’d undone the Silencing spell) in a shaking, squeaky voice. " _Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!_ ” Chase felt the ground under the headstone split. Her heart was pounding fast against her ribcage; she didn’t know what was going on, but whatever it was, it was evil.

 

Wormtail spoke again, but in a shaking voice. “ _Flesh of the servant, willingly sacrificed, you will revive your master._ ” A bloodcurdling scream rent the air, making Chase’s hair stand on end and her stomach churn violently.

 

“ _Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe._ ”

 

Harry grunted loudly –she supposed he’d been gagged, too- and the air in the graveyard suddenly became white-bright. Too bright; Chase shut her eyes against it. The only thing she could hear was Wormtail sobbing and moaning.

 

When it had gone dark again, Chase opened her eyes and tried to move against the ropes binding her to the headstone, but still she could see nothing. What she heard made her blood run cold:

 

“ _Robe me._ ” A man’s voice, but unnaturally high-pitched and cold. A rustling of robes, as if he were being dressed, and then another long moment of silence, punctuated only by Wormtail sobbing.

 

“Master,” Wormtail moaned. “You promised… You did promise!”

 

“Give me your arm, Wormtail.” The high-pitched voice said.

 

“Oh Master… Thank you…”

 

The high-pitched voice laughed, a cold, mirthless sound that chilled Chase to her core. “The other arm, Wormtail.”

 

“Master… Master, please.”

 

Silence.

 

“It is back,” the second man said. “They will all have noticed it. Now, we shall see. Now, we shall know…”

 

Wormtail moaned suddenly, and Chase suddenly realized what was going on.

 

Lord Voldemort had returned.

 

XXX

 

Severus grabbed his forearm, his Mark burning fiercely.

 

“Severus?” Dumbledore said, moving over to him.

 

“He’s back. The Dark Lord,” Severus gasped.

 

“Everythin’ all right, Professor Dumbledore? Professor Snape?” Rubeus Hagrid said, walking over to the both of them with a look of concern. Severus straightened up at once and arranged his face into a neutral expression.

 

“Hagrid, please pull Chase and Harry out of the maze,” Dumbledore said. “It’s not safe for either of them right now.”

 

Hagrid nodded and turned to enter the maze.

 

“You think the Dark Lord will take them from the Hogwarts grounds?” Severus said after Hagrid had gone, a note of disbelief in his voice.

 

“No,” Dumbledore said. “But I do not wish either Harry or Chase to be out in the open right now.”

 

“Professor Dumbledore, sir!” Hagrid gasped as he ran back to them, his face pale with worry. “Professor, they’re not in there. Chase or Harry.”

 

“What?” Severus said, letting go of his arm. “Are you sure, Hagrid? Completely sure?”

 

“Yes,” Hagrid nodded. “There’s no one in the maze.”

 

“Thank you, Hagrid,” Dumbledore said, and Hagrid left.

 

Severus and Dumbledore exchanged worried looks. The Dark Lord had returned, and the two students in most danger from him were missing. “Any ideas?” Severus whispered.

 

Dumbledore shook his head.

 

XXX

 

“How many will be brave enough to return when they feel it?” Lord Voldemort’s voice mused. Chase still couldn’t see anything, and she felt the ropes leaving bruises on her neck, arms, and legs as she continued to struggle against them. “And how many will be foolish enough to stay away?”

 

There was silence for a moment or two, and then Chase heard Voldemort’s voice again.

 

“You stand, Harry Potter, upon the remains of my late father. A Muggle and a fool, very like your dear mother. But they both had their uses, did they not? Your mother died to defend you as a child, and I killed my father, and see how useful he has proven himself in death.” He laughed again. “You see that house upon the hillside, Potter? My father lived there. My mother, a witch who lived in this village, fell in love with him. But he abandoned her when she told him what she was. He didn’t like magic, my father. He left her and returned to his Muggle parents before I was even born, Potter, and she died giving birth to me, leaving me to be raised in a Muggle orphanage. But I vowed to find him. I revenged myself upon him, that fool who gave me his name, Tom Riddle. …Listen to me, reliving family history… I’m becoming quite sentimental.”

 

He paused again. “And this one,” Lord Voldemort said, making his way around to Chase’s side of the headstone. Chase couldn’t believe a human being could look like that: His eyes were cold and red with vertical slits for pupils, his nostrils snakelike and flat, his mouth lipless. “How clever of you, to know that a Silencing Charm will render someone incapable of casting Avada Kedavra. Perhaps you would like to tell me how you knew?” He undid Chase’s gag, but Chase remained silent, her mouth curled in a sneer. “Come now, little one,” he said silkily. “You have nothing to fear, as long as you cooperate; I might even spare your life, should you decide to join me. Someone as clever as you would be a great asset. Now, tell me…”

 

He reached up to stroke her face with one of those unnaturally long fingers. Chase tried to bite it. Voldemort laughed. “Feisty, isn’t she, Wormtail? It would be a shame to kill her, but if that’s how she’ll have it…”

 

“Go on and do it, then,” Chase snarled.

 

“Temper, temper, little one,” Voldemort said. “Right now, my true family awaits me. Perhaps you’d like to meet them? Do keep an open mind,” he said when Chase growled and strained against the ropes again.

 

Chase heard the telltale _pop!_ of several wizards Apparating all around the graveyard, and as Voldemort returned to his former spot in front of Harry, she saw a few of the Death Eaters. One large one, one short one, and one she was pretty sure was related to Gregory Goyle. As they walked out of her line of vision, she heard several murmur, “ _Master… Master._ ” When they had all finished murmuring, Chase felt a shiver in the air, despite the fact that there was no wind.

 

“Welcome, Death Eaters,” Voldemort said quietly, after a moment. “Thirteen years. Thirteen years since last we met, yet you answer my call as if it were yesterday. We are still united, then, under the Dark Mark. _Or are we?_ ”

 

He had snarled the last part.

 

“I smell guilt. There is a stench of guilt upon the air.” Another shiver seemed to pass through the area. “I see you all, whole and healthy, with your powers intact. Such prompt appearances. And I ask myself, why did this band of wizards never come to the aid of their master, to whom they swore eternal loyalty?” There was a terrified silence. “And I answer myself: They must have believed me broken. They thought I was gone. They slipped back among my enemies, and they pleaded innocence and ignorance, and bewitchment.”

 

“But then I ask myself, how could they believe I would not rise again? They who knew the steps I took long ago to guard myself against mortal death? They who had seen proof of the immensity of my power in the times when I was mightier than any wizard living? And then I answer myself, maybe they believe a greater power exists, one that could vanquish even Lord Voldemort. Perhaps they now pay allegiance to another. Perhaps that champion of commoners, of Mudbloods and muggles, Albus Dumbledore?” There was some rustling and muttering at the mention of Dumbledore’s name. “It is a disappointment to me. I confess myself disappointed.”

 

“Master!” One of the Death Eaters shrieked in a high-pitched, squeaky voice. “Master, forgive me! Forgive us all!”

 

Voldemort laughed, then said coldly, “ _Crucio!_ ” The Death Eater shrieked again, in pain this time. After a minute, the Death Eater’s shrieks stopped. “Get up, Avery,” Voldemort said. “Stand up. You ask for forgiveness? I do not forgive. I do not forget. Thirteen long years. I want thirteen years’ repayment before I forgive you. Wormtail here has already paid part of his debt, have you not, Wormtail? You returned to me –not out of loyalty, but out of fear of your old friends. You deserve this pain. You know that, don’t you, Wormtail?”

 

“Yes, Master,” Wormtail moaned. “Please, Master… Please…”

 

“But you helped return me to my body,” Voldemort continued, still in that cold, hard-edged voice. “Worthless and traitorous though you are, you helped me. Lord Voldemort rewards his helpers.”

 

After a while, Wormtail stopped his sobbing. “Master,” he said breathlessly. “It is beautiful… Thank you, thank you.”

 

“May your loyalty never waver again, Wormtail.”

 

“No, my Lord… Never, my Lord…”

 

“Lucius, my slippery friend,” Voldemort said after a few seconds. Chase guessed that he was going around and addressing each Death Eater individually. Now that she knew Lucius Malfoy was among the returned Death Eaters, she began to see a small ray of hope. Perhaps he would vouch for her, on Severus’s behalf? “I am told that you have not renounced the old ways, but you present a respectable face to the rest of the world. You’re still ready to take the lead in a spot of Muggle torture, I believe? Yet you never tried to find me, Lucius. Your exploits at the Quidditch World Cup were fun, I daresay, but might not your energies have been better spent finding and aiding your master?”

 

“My Lord, I was constantly on the alert,” Lucius’s voice said swiftly. “Had there been any sign, any whisper of your whereabouts from you, I would have been at your side immediately. Nothing could have prevented me-”

 

“And yet you ran from my Dark Mark when a faithful Death Eater sent it into the sky last summer?” Voldemort said lazily. “Yes, I know all about that, Lucius. You have disappointed me. I expect more faithful service in the future.”

 

“Of course, my Lord,” said Lucius breathlessly. “Of course. You are merciful, thank you.”

 

“The Lestranges should stand here,” Voldemort mused. “But they are entombed in Azkaban. They were faithful. They went to Azkaban rather than renounce me. When Azkaban is broken open, the Lestranges will be honored beyond their dreams. The dementors will join us; they are our natural allies. We will recall the banished giants. I shall have all my devoted servants returned to me, and an army of creatures whom all fear.”

 

There was silence again.

 

“Macnair,” he continued. “Destroying dangerous beasts for the Ministry of Magic, now, Wormtail tells me. You shall have better victims than that soon. Lord Voldemort will provide.” (“Thank you, Master,” Macnair murmured.) “And here we have Crabbe. You will do better this time, will you not, Crabbe? And you, Goyle?” (Crabbe and Goyle muttered in assent.) “The same goes for you, Nott…”

 

“My Lord, I prostrate myself before you,” Nott said. “I am your most faithful-”

 

“That will do,” snapped Voldemort. He was silent again, briefly. Then he said: “And here, we have six missing Death Eaters. Three dead in my service… One, too cowardly to return. He _will_ pay. One who, I believe, has left me forever… He will be killed, of course…”

 

Severus! “NO!” Chase screamed, and began straining against the ropes with a new, manic energy. “No, you can’t- I won’t let you- You’ll have to kill me first- Don’t you dare-”

 

“My, my, my,” Voldemort said, vague amusement in his voice. He walked back over to Chase, and only spoke again when he was right in front of her. “I was on a roll, little one. Why did you interrupt me? Perhaps you know this doomed Death Eater?”

 

“You wanted me to talk earlier,” Chase snarled. “Well, I’m talking now!”

 

“Indeed.” Voldemort jabbed his wand at Chase, who felt herself become suddenly silent. Her face burned in humiliation as Voldemort and the Death Eaters laughed at her. “Now, where was I? Ah, yes.” He walked away from Chase, who was still struggling against the ropes, only now she was trying to slip under them. _If I can get back to the Cup… If I can get back to Hogwarts and let someone know… Dumbledore…_

 

“And one who has remained faithful. He has already re-entered my service. He is at Hogwarts, and it is through his efforts that our young friend, Harry Potter, arrived here tonight. With a guest, but, who am I to frown upon a gate-crasher?”

 

The Death Eaters laughed again.

 

“Wormtail,” Voldemort barked. The laughter died away at once. “Untie the girl. I want my Death Eaters to see what happens to people who defy Lord Voldemort.”

 

Wormtail hurried over to where he’d tied Chase to the headstone. He raised his right arm, which looked as though he had donned a silver glove, and slashed through the ropes binding her to the stone. She fell forward, but before she could hit the ground Wormtail had grabbed her around the waist and dragged her to the middle of a circle of Death Eaters. He threw her down unceremoniously, and Chase, scrambling to an upright position, threw a filthy look at his retreating back. Behind her, Chase could hear Harry struggling and trying to yell through a gag.

 

“This girl has very nearly thwarted my plans,” Voldemort said softly, walking almost leisurely toward her. Chase’s heart began to race again. “She knew how to stop someone from casting a Killing Curse, by Silencing them. But she refused to tell me how she knew.” Voldemort was now in front of Chase, and she couldn’t tear her eyes away from his horrible, inhuman face. He knelt down in front of her. “You are about to cause me much trouble, little one,” he said softly, finally succeeding in stroking her face. “I wasn’t lying earlier, it would be a shame to kill you, talented and -excuse me- lovely as you are.” He stood and turned to the circle of Death Eaters. “If no one will vouch for her, I shall kill her.”

 

Chase was frozen to the spot. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone step forward.

 

“My Lord,” Lucius Malfoy’s voice said. “This girl is Chase Carter. She’s a student at Hogwarts. More importantly, she is Snape’s niece, and his ward.”

 

Voldemort turned, and Chase could tell he was sizing up Lucius’s story.

 

“You may not have to kill Snape after all, my Lord, if he knows you have Chase. He will return for her, and pay any price to see her returned safely. I am sure of this.”

 

Voldemort turned back to Chase, his expression unfathomable. “Very well,” he said quietly. “Wormtail, take her up to the house. Set her up in the parlor, where I can get her when Snape returns. And be _gentle_ this time. Treat her as our honored guest.”

  
“Yes, m-my Lord,” Wormtail gasped, hurrying forward and seizing Chase’s wrist. Stunned by her lucky break, Chase allowed Wormtail to steer her toward the house. _Severus, I know you’re angry with me, but please, do Lucius’s promise good._


	10. The Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus and Chase both strike losing deals with Lord Voldemort.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING for rape and torture.

Severus knew Chase wasn’t in the maze. He knew she wouldn’t appear suddenly, triumphantly holding the Triwizard Cup while Potter snivelled in the background. He knew that, but he couldn’t stop himself from glancing at the maze every few seconds, desperately hoping that this was all a horrible dream. Not for himself; life had never been kind enough for him to even think this could be anything but reality. He hoped this was his nightmare, for Chase’s sake. If the Dark Lord had her, he would punish her for his, Severus’s, mistakes. For all he knew, she was already dead-- _No! She’s alive; he has no reason to kill her_ , he thought desperately.

After a while, there was a commotion near the entrance of the maze. Potter lay on the ground, holding the Triwizard Cup in his hand. Severus could tell, even from thirty feet away, that he was injured, but he cared more about the fact that Chase wasn’t with him. He and Dumbledore ran to Potter, with the Minister of Magic right behind them, and Severus cast a last, terrified glance at the maze. _If Potter could apparate out of there, Chase could have… But he can’t apparate, he’s too young… She isn’t-_

“Professor, he’s back,” Potter said in a thin, exhausted voice. “Voldemort. He’s back. The Cup… ‘s a Portkey.” He was trying to stand up, and Severus was surprised to see Potter look directly at him. “Chase…”

“Where is she?” Severus demanded. He grabbed Potter’s shirt by the collar, and, ignoring the affronted noise from Cornelius Fudge, repeated himself. “Potter, _where is she_?”

“At a house near a graveyard,” Potter replied. There was something unfamiliar behind his eyes. “She was alive when I left.” He lowered his voice. “Lucius Malfoy was there, Professor; he spoke up for her. Said you’d come back if you knew Voldemort had her.”

 _You would be bold enough to use the Dark Lord’s name_ , Severus thought bitterly, but he released Potter without another word. Turning, he began striding toward the gates to Hogsmeade as fast as he could.

“Severus!” Dumbledore called after him, but Severus paid him no heed. Chase’s life was in immediate danger, and if Dumbledore thought he was going to stay behind like a good boy--

“Severus, you must wait!” Dumbledore was next to him. “We have a plan--”

“ _You_ have a plan,” Severus corrected him tersely. “And to hell with it. That plan didn’t include my niece’s life being on the line.”

“I understand your fear, but Chase is in no danger.”

Severus stopped dead at this and turned to Dumbledore. “‘ _Chase is in no danger_ ’?” He repeated incredulously. “The Dark Lord is holding her hostage--”

“As collateral for your return,” Dumbledore said. “Lord Voldemort has no regard for her life, but he knows she’s important to you. He won’t kill her unless he knows you won’t return to him.”

Severus thought for a second. Dumbledore was right, of course, but…

“Chase will not goad Lord Voldemort,” Dumbledore said firmly. “She’s come face-to-face with him; I’m quite sure that took away any bravado you saw from her in discussing his return.”

Sighing, Severus nodded. Dumbledore turned back to the maze and started walking toward it, and Severus followed.

Halfway back, he noticed two people walking back to the castle. After a moment, he recognized Moody’s odd gait, and realized that he was half-dragging Potter with him. “Headmaster?”

“Yes?”

“Did you tell Moody to take Potter to the castle?” He pointed toward the figures. Dumbledore looked, then broke into a run, with Severus close behind him.

 

XXX

Wormtail led Chase into the parlor of what Chase thought might once have been a lovely manor house, but had since fallen into disrepair. He left, and Chase could feel her tongue loosening. She looked at a dusty sofa for a minute, before she performed a silent scourgify and sat gingerly on its edge.

She thought for a second about Apparating out of the house, but her common sense told her that an Anti-Disapparation charm had been placed on it. Even if that wasn’t the case, she reasoned, she needed to stay where she was; if Severus came and she wasn’t there, Voldemort might kill him. She understood now what Severus had been trying to tell her: She had no grand plan, no desire to fight Voldemort by herself. All she knew anymore was that she was completely, utterly, paralyzingly afraid.

She could hear nothing from the graveyard; whether it was too far away, or Voldemort had put a soundproofing charm on the house, she couldn’t say. Not knowing was the worst part; what if Severus was out there, even now, being tortured or killed by Lord Voldemort? _No, he isn’t_ , she told herself firmly. _Think positive, Chase._ Immediately after the thought ran through her head, she buried her face in her hands and let out one, desperate, terrified sob.

 

XXX

“Severus, you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready… If you are prepared...” Dumbledore’s voice betrayed no hint of apprehension, but Severus saw it in his eyes.

“I am.” Severus knew he was in for an unpleasant reunion with the Dark Lord, but he did not care. He was finally getting his chance to atone for Lily’s death. And, with any luck at all, to keep Chase from meeting the same fate.

“Then, good luck,” Dumbledore said.

Severus swept from the hospital wing without another word. The only thoughts in his head were the ones the Dark Lord would want to see. He had no doubt that he would be subjected to Legilimency within the hour, and he hoped, dimly, that that was the worst the Dark Lord would do to him.

 

XXX

The door to the manor opened, and Chase stood up, raising her wand slightly. Wormtail came in, followed a moment later by Lord Voldemort, whose expression Chase couldn’t make out.

“Put your wand away,” Voldemort said. “If you cooperate, I will let you go with your life.”

“He’s here,” Chase said, lowering her wand just slightly.

“Yes,” Voldemort said. “But before he takes you back to Hogwarts, I have a proposal for you.”

“What kind of proposal?” Chase was starting to get an uneasy feeling.

Voldemort studied her for a moment. “Are you aware, Chase, that I am the last direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin?”

Chase shook her head.

“But now that you do know, you might agree that it would be a shame to let that noble line die out.”

Chase swallowed. She thought she knew what Voldemort was asking her. “I suppose so…” She said slowly.

Voldemort looked hard at her for another moment. “I have considered this for a long time, Chase. I need a young, healthy witch to help me carry on Slytherin’s legacy.”

Chase could hear her heart banging against her chest once again. “No,” she said. “I won’t do it.”

“Do you think I am asking for your consent?”

“Why are you asking me at all?”

Voldemort laughed. The sound made Chase’s hair stand on end. “I am not asking. If you cooperate, there will be no need for violence. You may even enjoy the experience. I am told it can be quite pleasurable. I wouldn’t know; I have never found it more than boring, but occasionally useful.”

Now Chase felt sick. “I won’t do it,” Chase said, her voice stronger than before. “I won’t let you--”

“You seem to think you can stop me,” Voldemort said, the amusement in his voice more pronounced. “What gives you that idea, Chase? Did your little stunt in the graveyard make you think you could defeat Lord Voldemort?”

“No!” Chase was surprised by how shrill her voice had become. “No, it didn’t, I swear, but please, I’ll do anything else, _anything_! Just please, don’t make me do this.”

“You have no other use to me,” Voldemort said quietly.

“I’ll take the Dark Mark!” Chase said, desperation turning her against common sense. “I’ll go abroad and spread your message, I’ll do anything, please--”

“I have had enough of this,” Voldemort said, and he bore down on Chase until she backed into the sofa. She raised her wand, ready to fight.

Voldemort had his wand raised as well, but he seemed to be considering something. “No,” he said softly, more to himself than to Chase. “No, that would be crude… I have no intention of hurting you. Perhaps you just need a little persuasion. Wormtail!”

“Y-yes, my Lord?” Wormtail said, jumping to attention. Chase had the feeling -and it made her feel more sick- that Wormtail had been eagerly watching the whole thing.

“Bring Snape here.”

“Yes, my Lord,” Wormtail repeated, then scurried out the door.

Chase stood up, cautiously, her wand still clutched firmly in her left hand. Nothing would make Severus agree to this either, she knew, so why Voldemort thought he would persuade her, she didn’t know. In a few minutes, she saw Wormtail come back, and just behind him -and rather much taller- Severus.

Voldemort turned to the door. “Severus, do come in.”

Severus did as Voldemort commanded, and his expression remained passive as he looked at Chase.

“Leave us,” Voldemort snapped at Wormtail, who scampered up the stairs at once. Voldemort turned to Severus.

“This is your niece?” Voldemort asked, pointing at Chase.

“Yes, my Lord.”

Voldemort circled around to Chase and put a hand on her shoulder. With difficulty, Chase held back a shudder.

“She’s quite clever, Severus, not unlike yourself. In fact,” he said, turning his snakelike gaze back onto Severus, “she knew that putting a Silencing Charm on Wormtail would render him incapable of casting a Killing Curse.” His voice became colder. “ _You_ , Severus, are the only other person I have ever known who knew that.”

Chase felt her jaw drop, and quickly shut her mouth. She had cast the Silencing Charm out of desperation; she’d had no idea that it would actually work.

“She may have picked it up from a book, my Lord, the way I did.”

Voldemort laughed and stepped forward, taking his hand off Chase. “ _Crucio!_ ”

“NO!” Chase screamed, but to no effect. Severus was already on his knees, arms clasped around his torso, and Chase could tell he was grinding his teeth to keep from screaming.

Voldemort lifted the Cruciatus Curse, and spoke in a softer, more dangerous voice. “I am not convinced, Severus. After all, you told me, not ten minutes ago, that you returned to me on Dumbledore’s orders. How am I to know you haven’t turned into his stooge?”

“My loyalty to the Dark Lord has never wavered,” Severus answered. Chase had to admire the fact that his voice was still steady.

“Has it not? Then why did you stop Quirrell from procuring the Philosopher’s Stone three years ago? _Crucio!_ ”

Chase turned her head; she didn’t want to see this.

“Quirrell… was unworthy… I did not know his intent--” Severus panted.

“ _Crucio!_ ”

“STOP!” Chase screamed, tears now streaming down her face. “Stop it!”

“ _Be quiet, Chase!_ ” Severus snarled, now curled over his knees from the last two Cruciatus Curses.

“Perhaps I should give you a taste, little one?” Voldemort said in amusement, raising his wand threateningly at her. Chase stumbled backwards.

“Please, just stop this. He doesn’t deserve it--” She was frozen in mid-sentence by a Full Body-Bind Hex.

“My Lord, forgive her,” Severus said. “She is exhausted, she doesn’t know what she’s saying--”

“And neither did you, I assume, when you claimed you did not know of Quirrell’s plan to use the Stone to bring me back to my body?”

“I did not, my Lord, I thought Quirrell was going to use it to bring wealth to himself.”

“ _Crucio!_ ”

This time, Severus let out a grunt of pain. Chase, paralyzed and unable to speak, could only watch helplessly.

“The truth, Severus,” Voldemort said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“Dumbledore had the Stone under several enchantments,” Severus said, his voice also quiet, but now hoarse. “I made it my mission to bring the Stone to you, myself. I had heard you were hiding in Albania, and I wanted to have the honor of bringing you back to strength myself. Had I known you were with Quirrell, I would have helped him. I did not know; he did not reveal his true intentions to me. He did not trust me.”

Voldemort considered all of this. “Very well, Severus. Now, tell me this: You were at Hogwarts when I fell, where I had instructed you to be. Why did you not seek to find me, the way Bellatrix, Rodolphus, and Rabastan did? Did you believe me finished, perhaps?"

"I beg your forgiveness, my Lord," Severus said. Chase saw him bracing for another Cruciatus Curse, which came almost as soon as he’d finished talking. Another, slightly louder grunt of pain escaped him.

Voldemort lifted the Cruciatus and turned to Chase. “Well?” He said, flicking his wand at her.

Chase, able to move again, looked over at Severus. He couldn’t know why Voldemort was making her watch this… Or maybe he had an idea, because he gave a barely-noticeable shake of his head “no”.

“I won’t do it,” Chase said, her voice shaking slightly.

Voldemort turned away, back to Severus. “CRUCIO!”

This time, the curse was so powerful that Severus recoiled, finally letting out an agonized scream. Voldemort’s anger was apparent as he twitched his wand and Severus’s screams grew louder.

“STOP!” Chase screamed again.

Voldemort lifted the curse and looked coldly at Chase.

Severus was panting, pushing himself back onto his knees. “My Lord…” he gasped, his voice thin and scratchy.

“ _CRUCIO!_ ”

“NO!” Chase tried to knock Voldemort’s wand out of his hand, but he -being nearly as tall as Dumbledore and much taller than Chase- merely held his wand higher, oblivious to his former servant’s screams. “STOP IT, PLEASE!” Chase yelled, tears running down her face once again.

Voldemort laughed, twitching his wand even higher. Severus stopped screaming and seemed to go limp; only then did Voldemort take the curse off him.

Chase ran to Severus’s side and knelt next to him. His eyes were rolled back into his head, and he seemed totally unaware of anything. “You killed him,” Chase said weakly, looking around at Voldemort.

“He is still alive,” Voldemort said dispassionately. “Just. One more Cruciatus Curse will either kill him or break his mind. You make the choice.”

Chase looked back to Severus and put her hand over his face. He was still breathing, but she realized Voldemort was right: Another curse would kill him or leave him worse than dead. She stood up slowly, hating herself for her decision.

“I’ll do it,” she said.

“On the couch,” Voldemort said, his voice still empty of emotions.

Chase walked back to the couch, feeling as though she was walking to the gallows. Once there, she slowly removed her pants and knickers, and lay back, closing her eyes. She bit her lip as she felt Voldemort climb on top of her, suppressed a sob as he entered her, trying to imagine herself anywhere but at the manor house.

Not soon enough, Voldemort finished, but pushed her back down when she tried to sit up. He tapped her lower abdomen with his wand, muttering as he did, and a warmth exploded in her womb. Finally he stood, rearranged his robes, and walked out of the room, leaving Chase alone to dress and deal with Severus.

 _Severus_ , she thought, determined not to think about what had just happened to her. She walked back to him. He was still unconscious and not moving, and Chase realized that she had no idea where they were, or if Dumbledore knew. She looked around for some clues and found none. Disappointed, she put her arms around Severus’s torso and heaved him into as much of an upright position as she could, and slowly walked out of the house with him.  
  
Once she’d made her way across the manor’s garden, she focused all of her attention on Apparating into Hogsmeade.


	11. Rowen's Tale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of their attack, Chase and Severus begin picking up the pieces.

**Chapter 11: Rowen's Tale**

With a  _ pop _ , Chase found herself and Severus in front of the Three Broomsticks. She laid him down gently on the ground, then conjured a stretcher for him. As she maneuvered him onto it, she considered the ways she had to call for help, and doubted that any of them would work. Then again, she reasoned as she guided the stretcher with her wand, Dumbledore had sent Severus out on this mission; he had to be waiting up for him to come back.   
  


Chase looked at her wand. If she sent up red sparks, as though she were back in the maze and wanted out, would someone come to her?  _ No way of telling unless I do _ . She sent up the sparks, then sat down to wait for someone, still trying to push the memories of the manor house out of her mind. She wasn’t ready to think of it yet, but she couldn’t stop the thoughts from coming.   
  


What spell had Voldemort put on her? Was she now being tracked? Could Voldemort get to her anytime he wished, now that he’d done whatever it was he’d done back there? And why had it been so important that  _ she  _ was the one?   
  


She realized that she was trembling. She felt cold and nauseous, but also unable to purge herself. She brushed tears out of her eyes.

 

After several long minutes, she saw someone coming up the high road from the direction of the school. Instinctively she raised her wand, just in case it wasn’t someone from Hogwarts.   
  


“Severus?” She heard Madam Pomfrey’s voice saying. “Is that you?”   
  


“He’s out,” Chase called back. “I brought him back.”   
  


Madam Pomfrey came into view, slightly breathless from the walk, but looking completely alert. “Oh, Chase, good. Dumbledore was ever so worried when he found out you and Potter were gone… Good lord!” She exclaimed when she saw Severus. “What happened to him? And you?”   
  


“I’m fine,” Chase lied. “You-Know-Who tortured him with the Cruciatus Curse.”   
  


Pomfrey nodded, with the grim expression she saved for particularly gruesome student injuries. She pulled out her wand, muttered “ _ locomotor _ ”  at the stretcher, and began walking back to the castle, the stretcher beside her and Chase on it’s opposite side. “The sooner we get him fixed up, the better. And I’ll want a look at you, too.”   
  


“ That’s not really necessary,” Chase said quietly. Of all the things she wanted right now, being fussed over by the matron was nowhere near one of them.  _ An obscenely hot bath and a toilet to puke in, however… _   
  


“I must insist,” Pomfrey said. “That maze was full of things you children should never--”   
  


“ I’m eighteen,” Chase snapped. “And I said  _ no _ . I knew what I was getting into when I put my name in that goblet.”   
  


Pomfrey stopped and turned toward Chase, the stretcher and its patient hovering between them. “Chase, what happened?” She asked, her voice crisp.   
  


“Nothing,” Chase replied, her voice just as crisp.   
  


“ And a pig just went flying past your head. I’ll ask you again,  _ what happened _ ?”   
  


Chase sighed. “You-Know-Who tortured Severus and made me watch.”   
  


“Why did he make you watch?”   
  


“He… He wanted me to do something for him.”   
  


“And you refused,” Pomfrey said. Her voice had softened. “What did he ask you to do?”   
  


“Madam Pomfrey, I really don’t want to talk about it right now.”   
  


Pomfrey sighed. “Very well. But when we get to the castle, I want you to tell me.”   
  


Chase nodded. Neither woman spoke again until they had reached the castle and gone down to the dungeons.   
  


“You’re not taking him to the hospital wing?” Chase said curiously as Pomfrey undid the wards on Severus’s office door.   
  


“Students aren’t supposed to know he’s a spy,” she said, opening the door. She backed in, pulling the foot of the stretcher as Chase pushed the head. “Treating him up there would lead to a bunch of questions, and we can’t be sure a student won’t let something slip to the wrong person.”   
  


Chase nodded again, but didn’t say anything else as she and Pomfrey maneuvered the stretcher into Severus’s quarters.   
  


Chase had been in these quarters before (“relative privileges,” Chase had explained to Damien once), but she was always struck by how bare they were. A bed for one, magically extended to accommodate a tall wizard, with simple white linen bedclothes, a desk and straight-backed wooden chair in the corner, and a small but sturdy table by the door, on which was a hotplate, percolator, and a can of ground coffee, with two mugs hanging off a pair of hooks on the wall above it.   
  


She and Madam Pomfrey slid Severus onto the bed. Chase vanished the stretcher, while Pomfrey pulled off his cloak and shirt, and pulled a small vial of potion out of her apron.   
  


“You’ll want to leave,” she said, uncorking it, opening Severus’s mouth, and pouring its contents down his throat. “This will get ugly and rather disgusting in about twenty minutes.”   
  


_ Can’t be worse than anything else I’ve seen tonight,  _ Chase thought, but she left the room all the same. The matron followed close behind, closing the door behind her. Once they had reached the classroom dungeon, Pomfrey cast a spell on the main door. Chase heard the lock click shut.   
  


“Now,” Pomfrey said, turning to Chase with her arms crossed over her chest. “Tell me everything that happened after you and Potter left the grounds.”   
  


Chase glanced at the door.   
  


“I’ve put a Silencing Charm on it,” Pomfrey said. “I’m the only one who will hear anything.”   
  


Chase took a deep breath, and told Pomfrey about the Cup being a Portkey, how she and Harry had been attacked by Voldemort and his assistant Wormtail, how Voldemort had returned to his body, how she and Harry had seen him call his Death Eaters, and finally how she had been singled out initially to be killed, and then how Voldemort had spared her when Lucius Malfoy had told Voldemort who she was.   
  


While telling the matron all of this, Chase noticed that her voice had taken on a flat, emotionless quality. Whether it was from exhaustion or emotional overload, she couldn’t tell.   
  


“What happened in the house?”   
  


Chase swallowed. “You-Know-Who asked me if I would… If I would take a mission for him. I told him I wouldn’t.”   
  


“What mission?”   
  


“He brought Severus in and started torturing him, trying to make me say yes.”   
  


“Chase, what was the mission?”   
  


“Madam Pomfrey, please; I don’t--”   
  


“I can’t help you unless I know what happened.”   
  


“He… He wanted me to… Madam Pomfrey, I can’t, please…”   
  


The matron stood and walked over to Chase. For a moment, Chase wasn’t sure what she was doing. Then, Madam Pomfrey put her arms around Chase, hugging her as warmly as a mother would.   
  


“ Whatever he asked you, Chase, and whatever happened after,  _ was not your fault.  _ You have nothing to feel guilty about. Nothing you could have said or done would have stopped him.”   
  


The dam broke. “He raped me. You-Know-Who.” Chase wiped frantically at her eyes. “He s-said he wanted an heir. That I w-was the only person…”   
  


Madam Pomfrey was still embracing her, and now murmuring gently, “You poor thing. We’re going to set this right, child. When your uncle wakes, we’ll tell him--”   
  


“Oh God, Severus!” Chase said, her head snapping up. “That stuff’s kicked in by now, hasn’t it. I want to see him--”   
  


“No, Chase!” Pomfrey started, but Chase was already running back to Severus’s quarters and had wrenched open the door.   
  


Severus was writhing in agony on the bed, sweating profusely, and he was coughing up what looked like a black, thick substance. By the looks of it, he’d vomited and missed the bucket Madam Pomfrey had put by the bed. He groaned loudly, and Chase, not wanting to see anymore, shut the door again.   
  


“I told you, it was going to get ugly,” Madam Pomfrey said evenly when Chase re-entered the dungeon.   
  


“It’s my fault,” Chase said quietly. “If I’d just done what You-Know-Who asked in the first place--”   
  


“I’ll not have you blaming yourself,” Pomfrey said, standing and walking over to Chase. “I told you before, nothing that happened in that house tonight was your fault.”   
  


“But it didn’t make a difference--”   
  


“And it wouldn’t have even if you had agreed,” Pomfrey said firmly. “You need to rest now. I’ll take you up to the hospital wing and get a Dreamless Sleeping Potion in you. We’ll talk about options tomorrow, once Severus is back on his feet.”   
  


“He’ll be okay by tomorrow,” Chase said skeptically. After what she’d seen, she wasn’t sure.   
  


“He’s going through the worst of it now.” When Chase still looked unconvinced, Pomfrey said, “This isn’t the first time he’s done this, and believe me, that time was worse.”

  
  


XXX

  
  


When he was eighteen, Severus Snape had gotten blackout drunk at Malfoy Manor. It was at the party Lucius had thrown to celebrate his induction to the Death Eaters. The next morning, Severus had woken up covered in his own vomit and laying next to a woman he was quite sure was a prostitute Lucius had hired to deflower him. (Whether that had happened, Severus neither remembered nor cared to remember.) The worst part, however, was the hangover: It had felt like someone had smashed his head into a wall and drilled through it with an industrial-sized cap screw.   
  


As he awoke the morning after the Dark Lord’s rebirth, he felt much the same way, only far less able to bounce back at thirty-five than he’d been at eighteen. He groaned in disgust when he saw the mess he’d made, and retched slightly when he sat up to grab his wand. With one wave, he’d cleaned up the room and himself, and he stood, swaying and steadying himself against the wall.   
  


Poppy Pomfrey came in then. “Oh good, you’re up.”   
  


“Barely,” Severus muttered. “Where is Chase? What happened to her? And how did we get back here?”   
  


“She’s in the hospital wing. And she brought you back. You were unconscious by then, I’m not surprised you don’t remember,” Poppy said, and something in her voice told Severus that she had no intention of answering the second question until he was well and truly in the clear. He sat back down on the edge of his bed and let Poppy check his vitals.   
  


She tutted as she examined him. “He did a number on you,” she said, taking a small vial of a strong painkiller from the pocket of her apron and holding it out to him.   
  


“I suppose that’s what happens when you start getting a paycheck from his worst enemy,” Severus said, taking the vial from Poppy and downing it in one gulp. When she stepped away, he leaned back against the cold stone wall. He felt as weak and shaky as if he’d just started recovering from the flu, but slightly better. “What happened to Chase?” He asked again.   
  


Poppy, who had been gathering another shirt for him, stopped and took a deep breath. “What did You-Know-Who ask from you last night?”   
  


“ The usual, Poppy, now tell me,  _ what happened to my niece _ ?” He took the shirt from her and pulled it on.   
  


Poppy looked like she was steeling herself not to be sick. “You-Know-Who raped her.”   
  


Severus felt himself go cold. “He told me he had a mission for her…”   
  


“He didn’t say what it was, I’ll bet. He knew you wouldn’t agree to it.”   
  


Severus shook his head, still in shock. “I assume she’ll be pregnant soon.”   
  


“With luck, we can give her something to keep that from happening.”   
  


"The Dark Lord isn’t that sloppy. He’ll have put some kind of safeguard on her.” He stood again, ignoring another sudden rush of vertigo. “Bring her here.”   
  


Poppy left, and Severus made his way over to the hotplate and began making a pot of coffee. As he waited for it to brew, he considered everything the Dark Lord would have done to ensure Chase ended up pregnant. He had never heard of a spell to ensure a woman’s fertility ( _ not that I’ve had a reason to look them up, _ he thought dryly), but he knew how the Dark Lord worked, and also knew it was likely to be Dark magic, if not a spell of his own invention. He sighed and poured himself a cup, and had half-finished it -and started to feel slightly revived- when the door to his quarters opened again, and Poppy walked in, followed by Chase, who looked as though she would rather be anywhere else. He set the mug down.   
  


“Tell me what you told Madam Pomfrey last night,” he said, surprised at how gentle his voice was.   
  


Chase told him, her voice curiously flat. At the end, she said, “When he was done, he put some kind of spell on me. It just felt like… I don’t know,  _ warm _ . I can’t explain it.”   
  


Severus felt his heart start to sink. “Come here,” he said, pulling out his wand. When Chase hesitated, he said, “It’s just a revealing spell. I need to know exactly what he did and how it can be countered.”   
  


Chase relented, and he muttered the incantation, pointing his wand at her midsection. The information was immediate and awful. Severus lowered his wand, feeling more ill than he had when he’d woken.   
  


“So,” Chase said. “How do I stop this?”   
  


“You can’t,” Severus said weakly. “I’ve never seen this before, but…”   
  


“What do you mean, I can’t?” Chase said.   
  


Severus sighed. Telling Chase that her mother was going to be declared legally dead had been easier than this. “Sit down,” he said, conjuring a chair next to her. When she’d sat, he explained.   
  


“This spell the Dark Lord put on you is unique. It’s ensured that you will get pregnant.” He paused; it was this next piece of information that had really gutted him. “Nothing can happen to the fetus. Absolutely nothing. If you miscarry or try to abort it, you’ll die as well.”   
  


Chase just sat for a moment. Then, silently, with a stony expression, she stood, turned, and walked out of the dungeon, slamming the door on her way out.   
  


Severus started to go after her, but Poppy put her hand on his arm.

  
  


XXX

  
  


Chase strode through the halls, knowing she was bumping into people and not caring. The familiar landscape of the castle blurred in her peripheral vision as she made her way to the prefects’ bathroom. If people were shouting at her, or telling her off for ramming into them, she neither heard nor cared. She didn’t stop until she reached the oak door.   
  


“ _ Pine fresh, _ ”  she said. The door unlocked, and she slipped into the room, barely getting it shut and putting a soundproofing spell on the door before the dam broke.   
  


She curled up into a ball on the marble floor, sobbing hard, ugly sounds as she processed the news.  _ I can’t stop this. I can’t miscarry. I can’t get an abortion. _ Never before had she felt so contaminated.   
  


“Chase?”   
  


She looked up at the sound of Damien’s voice. She wondered how long she had been in the prefect’s bathroom, and a second later decided she didn’t care.   
  


“I just talked to your uncle,” he said, kneeling down next to her. "When he told me how you left, I thought you might have gone here."   
  


Chase turned her head away. What did this look like to him? She had come out of that maze hours after everyone had gone to bed, claiming that she had been raped by none other than Lord Voldemort, and she was guaranteed to end up pregnant.   
  


“Look at me,” he said gently. When Chase didn’t, he said, “I’m not angry. How could you have said no? He probably would have killed you.”   
  


“I’m sorry.”   
  


“For what?”   
  


“I should have--”   
  


“No.” Damien’s voice was still gentle, but firm. “There’s no ‘should have’. Don’t think about ‘should have’.”   
  


Finally Chase let herself look at Damien. She leaned against his shoulder, and he put his arms around her. “What happens now?”   
  


“We get through this,” he said.   
  


“How?”

 

“One day at a time.”

XXX   
  


Chase returned to the hospital wing from the prefect’s bathroom, and the next morning, she was given the all-clear to return to Ravenclaw Tower. On the way back, she stopped in the girl’s bathroom.   
  


As she was finishing up in the stall, a group of girls came in, all of them chattering. Chase caught the sound of her name, and stopped just before pulling the chain to listen.   
  


“So apparently both Carter and Potter are touched in the head,” one girl said, in a high, breathy voice. “Did you hear what Carter’s saying about the last task?”   
  


“No, what?” Another girl with a deeper voice asked.   
  


“Well, you’ve got Potter claiming that You-Know-Who is back,” the first girl answered. “And I overheard a couple of the ghosts talking about Carter. Apparently they overheard it from Snape, who was telling Dumbledore.”   
  


“So what were they saying?” A third girl, chirpy-voiced, asked.   
  


“Something about how Carter’s pregnant, and it’s You-Know-Who’s. She told Snape she was forced.” The first girl snorted.   
  


“ I don’t put it past Carter that she’s pregnant,” the third girl said. “She acts so  _ perfect _ all the time… And I bet she was just cheating on Grant. Did you see her hitting on that hot Beauxbatons boy at the Yule Ball?” The girls laughed. “I don’t know what Grant sees in her, besides the fact she’s pretty.”   
  


“I’ll bet Snape doesn’t believe it, either,” the second girl said. “Having a laugh about his stupid, slutty niece, I’d bet any money.”   
  


“Come on,” the third girl said. “We’ll be late for lunch.”   
  


Chase waited until they left, then pulled the chain and banged the door to the stall open. She was shaking from head to toe, and her stomach was churning. Anger and shame were fighting for dominance in her mind. How could Severus have been so loose-lipped about her? She didn’t know what she wanted to do more: Find the girls who had been gossiping about her and curse the stupidity out of them, or storm down to the dungeons and punch Severus in the crotch.   
  


Hardly aware of what she was doing, she made her way down to the dungeons. Once there, she was surprised to find the Potions classroom open. Severus was sitting at his desk, grading the remainder of the Potions finals.   
  


She entered the room and stood in front of the desk. “I want to go home. Now,” she said, surprised that her voice was calm.   
  


Severus didn’t look up from his stack of papers. “You can leave on Friday, with everyone else.”   
  


“Everyone else, and they all think I’m a slag and a liar,” she spat. “No thanks to you and your big mouth.”

 

Severus looked up from the tests. “What are you talking about?”   
  


“ The whole school’s heard,” Chase said, her voice now shaking with anger. “You told Dumbledore what happened, and those fucking ghosts overheard and told the school, and  _ I _ heard it from a group of girls who were in the bathroom--”   
  


Severus stood and crossed to the front of his desk. He put his hand on Chase’s shoulder.   
  


“DON’T TOUCH ME!” She yelled, jerking her shoulder away violently.   
  


He nodded toward a desk. “Sit.”   
  


Chase sat down, crossing her arms over her chest as she did so.   
  


“I am not responsible for whatever gossip goes around this school,” Severus began, but Chase cut him off.   
  


“You told Dumbledore.”   
  


“I had to,” Severus said. As Chase’s voice had become louder and less controlled, his had become quieter and steadier. “He and I are working on a plan to keep you out of the Dark Lord’s way until you give birth.” When Chase continued to glare at him, he said, “I can’t help that some of the ghosts overheard it. There’s nothing anyone can do to keep a ghost from talking.”   
  


“Severus, please, just let me go home,” Chase said. Her voice was quieter, but still shaking as she tried to keep herself from crying. “I don’t want to hear about how everyone thinks I’m a slag and cheating on Damien.”   
  


“No,” Severus said firmly. “You can’t stop the rumors, and why do you care, anyway? You know what happened.”   
  


“ Because I don’t want to hear it,” Chase said. “Isn’t it bad enough it happened, without me having to hear what everyone else  _ thinks _ happened?”   
  


The door to Severus’s office opened. “Not that I wanted you to know how that feels,” Rowen Snape said, stepping out into the classroom. “But now you do. Not pleasant, is it?”   
  


Chase gaped at her mother for a moment, then turned to Severus. Something clicked in her mind. “You can’t be serious…”   
  


In reply, Severus pointed his wand at the main door, and it shut with a bang. “You have avoided this long enough,” he said. “It’s past time you had a conversation with your mother.” When Chase started to protest, Severus shook his head. “We all have to do things we’d rather not, it’s called ‘being an adult.’ Seeing as you’ve been one legally since January, I’d say your grace period is over.”   
  


Rowen had taken a chair from another one of the desks, set it in front of Chase, and sat down. “I want you to know what really happened when I left,” she said quietly. “If you still hate me when I’ve told you, fine, but I’m not letting you leave this room without knowing the truth. Understand?”   
  


Chase sighed. The classroom door was locked, and Severus was standing off to one side, his wand visible. “Fine,” she said dully. “What happened that day?”

 

“I’d gotten a job offer,” Rowen said. Chase remembered that part. “You were too little to understand, but we were on the verge of being homeless. We lived in this horrid little flat, surrounded by the worst kinds of people. I didn’t even want you to be alone for an hour, but I’d been told not to bring you.”

 

“Who offered you this job?” Severus asked.

 

“You remember I was waiting tables before I left?” Rowen said. When Severus nodded, she said, “A regular. Nice-dressed bloke, and a wizard, as it so happened. He told me there was a nice, well-paying job for a girl who only had her O.W.L.s, if I’d let him show me the place.”

  
  


“And you did,” Chase said. “Why? Why on earth--”

 

“I was desperate,” Rowen said, but not defensively. She’d stated it as though she’d just made a comment on the weather. “I was almost six months behind on the rent, and I didn’t have enough to even start to make a dent in that, and barely enough to keep you fed, never mind myself. So when someone I knew told me I could make more money, make life better for you and me? I wasn’t in a place to think clearly.”

 

Chase thought she knew where this story was going. “What happened when you got there?”   
  


“I don’t know,” Rowen said, sadness creeping into her voice. “All I remember from that day is waking up in a dark room with about twenty other girls, all my age or a bit younger, and we all looked the same. I knew what was going on, but I didn’t know where I was, and before I had a chance to find out, I was told to go with someone else.”   
  


“You… You were sold?” Chase noticed her hands were trembling. All this time, she’d thought Rowen had just abandoned her...

 

Rowen nodded. “I still don’t know where I ended up, just that it was a huge manor. As soon as I got there, I was put under an Imperius Curse and put to work. I tried to escape once, and got caught, and beaten. So after a while I just stopped. Occasionally the curse would weaken, and I’d remember that you were waiting home for me.”   
  


Chase had tears falling down her face, and so did Rowen. Severus’s expression was neutral, but he had put a hand on Chase’s shoulder and was squeezing it gently. Chase reached up and put her hand over his.

  
But now that she knew the truth, Chase felt more confused than before. She no longer hated her mother, but she couldn’t figure out how to strike up a relationship with her.  _ How do you have a functional relationship with your mother, _ Chase thought as she lay in bed later that night, listening to the other seventh-year Ravenclaw girls snoring and breathing deeply in untroubled sleep,  _ when you never really considered her your mother? _


	12. The Ceremony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After all that's happened in the last few days, Chase just wants to go home.

**Chapter Twelve: The Ceremony**

 

_Madness_ , Severus thought as he watched the platform being raised in front of the lake. In a few hours, Chase and Potter would be awarded their thousand Galleons each of prize money for winning the Triwizard Tournament, in some gala fashion, in front of all of Hogwarts and the delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang.

 

He knew Chase, for her part, wanted nothing to do with the ceremony; she was still decidedly not her normal self, and Poppy Pomfrey had warned him that she could possibly be this way for several months. Even still, Chase refused to discuss what had happened without being prodded, and Severus was tired of prodding her. Partly because he felt that if she didn’t want to talk about it, she didn’t have to, and partly because he thought she was just being stubborn.

 

He kept watching the platform being built and let his mind wander for a bit. It settled on two nights previously.

 

The night of the Dark Lord’s return stood out as one of the most bizarre nights in Severus’s recent memory. First had come the revelation that the person everyone at Hogwarts had believed to be Alastor Moody was, in reality, Bartemius Crouch, Jr. Then, the story of how Crouch had escaped Azkaban and his father’s imprisonment and doctored the Triwizard Tournament to ensure Potter’s victory. And, in the most disturbing twist, when Severus had been sent to fetch Fudge and have him take Crouch back to Azkaban.

 

When Fudge had heard the story, he had insisted upon bringing a dementor with him, “for protection.”

 

“There is no need,” Severus had said flatly. “Crouch is unconscious, and he is being watched over by Minerva McGonagall, who is more than capable of subduing him, if needs be.”

 

At this, Fudge had given Severus a look that clearly said _don’t tell me what to do, boy_. “I will not take Crouch back to Azkaban unless I am allowed to take a dementor with me, for my own safety.”

 

“Then you can stay here until Dumbledore brings him to you,” Severus snapped. “He will not allow one of those foul things in the castle; you know that as well as I do.”

 

“I- Do you think-- _I am the Minister of Magic!_ ” Fudge spluttered angrily. “I do not need permission to enter Hogwarts, with or without a dementor!” And with that, he’d pushed past Severus to call up a dementor. Severus had run back to the castle to tell Minerva what was going to happen. Both had tried to block Fudge from the Defense Against the Dark Arts room, to no avail.

 

Severus had heard that the Dementor’s Kiss was one of the most horrible things a person could witness. Seeing it performed on Crouch, he realized that “horrible” was a vast understatement. Minerva’s face had been eloquent with horror and nausea, and Severus was sure his normally neutral expression had cracked as well.

 

Even worse, after Severus had recovered from the Dark Lord’s torture and reported to Dumbledore, he had been informed that Fudge had demanded a meeting with him and Chase. It had taken place at ten o’clock that morning, and it had been a complete disaster. Chase had been in tears by the end of it, and the only thing that had kept Severus from hexing the Minister had been his own need for decorum, helped by several warning glances from Dumbledore.

 

Now, he stood at a window on the fifth floor, looking down at the action on the grounds. Minerva McGonagall joined him. “Revolting,” she said with a sniff, indicating the stage.

 

“At least,” Severus agreed.

 

There was silence between them for a moment. Then Minerva said, quietly, “How did the meeting go?"

 

Severus sighed. “When Chase told Fudge what had happened to her,” he said, unable to keep the disgust out of his voice, “he turned to Dumbledore and reminded him that teenagers can be _irresponsible_.”

 

“He did not!” Minerva said, in an affronted voice.

 

“And then he proceeded to ask her why she hadn’t fought harder.” Severus made his voice higher, to imitate Fudge’s. “ _‘You’re a clever girl; you won the Triwizard Tournament! Are you really telling me you couldn’t fight off He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? He must be weak, he’d only just been reborn, if you believe Potter’s story.’_ ”

 

Minerva hissed softly. Severus said nothing else; he hadn't thought it would be possible for him to hate anyone more than he'd hated James Potter, but Fudge was a strong contender.

 

“Professor Snape?” A small voice squeaked from behind him and Minerva. Severus turned and saw a first-year Slytherin girl looking up at him. “Sir, Professor Dumbledore wants you to meet him in your office, now.”

 

Severus nodded, and the girl ran off. “I’ll see you at supper,” he said to Minerva, and headed down to the dungeons.

 

XXX

 

“Chase Carter?” Chase turned at the sound of her name, to see a first-year Ravenclaw girl behind her.

 

“Yeah?” She said.

 

“Professor Dumbledore wants you to meet him in Professor Snape’s office, now,” the first-year girl said.

 

“All right,” Chase answered. “Thanks.” She headed toward the dungeons, wondering why on earth she was being asked to attend yet another meeting, considering how badly the first one had gone. _But on the plus side_ , she thought dimly as she turned down the cold hallway to Severus’s office, _Fudge won’t be there_. Dumbledore had personally escorted him out of the school, and Chase was sure that, after tonight, the Minister would not be allowed back in the castle for a long time.

 

Chase stopped abruptly when she saw Severus coming from the other direction. He stopped as well. Then he said, “Why are you down here?”

 

“I was told Dumbledore wanted to talk to me here,” she said.

 

“I was told he wanted to talk to me,” Severus said.

 

Chase sighed. “I suppose he wants to talk to both of us, then,” she said. “Why didn’t he just say so?”

 

“Have I mentioned the headmaster’s eccentricities before?” Severus tapped on the door, undoing the wards and pushing it open, standing aside so that Chase could enter first.

 

Dumbledore was already there, waiting for them. “Good afternoon, Chase, Severus,” he said, nodding to each of them. Then he turned to Chase and addressed her directly. “I apologize for this morning,” he said. “If I had known what Cornelius’s intent was, it would not have happened.”

 

Chase merely nodded.

 

“I have a proposal that will keep you safe and out of Lord Voldemort’s way,” Dumbledore continued.

 

Chase shuddered violently at the sound of Voldemort’s name, and quickly tried to shut down the memory that was forming: _“You may even enjoy the experience. I am told it can be quite pleasurable.”_

 

Dumbledore waited for her to answer. When she didn’t, he went on, “I have spoken to Sirius Black about using his ancestral home as the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix. The resistance movement I am organizing against Lord Voldemort,” he said, noting her confused expression.

 

“Professor, I don’t mean to be even more rude,” Chase said, “but could you not say his name around me? I don’t feel like vomiting on you.”

 

“Chase…” Severus growled, but Dumbledore waved him into silence.

 

“That will be the last time I will need to use his name,” Dumbledore said. “Sirius has been kind enough to agree, and he has also been kind enough to offer you and Damien Grant room in his house until you give birth, at which point the Order will set your families up in a safe location.”

 

Chase tried to muster up any feeling she could about the offer. After failing to do so, she said, “How much of a say do I really have in it?”

 

“You are free to reject my help,” Dumbledore said. His calmness was beginning to bother Chase. “But I would advise you not to. The Order will be able to protect you, Damien, and your families far better than you could imagine.”

 

“That’s not the problem I’m having,” Chase said. “I’m having a problem with the ‘going to live with an escaped mass-murderer, even if he is my father’ part.”

 

“Sirius Black is not a mass-murderer,” Dumbledore said. “He was framed by the man who really betrayed the Potters' whereabouts, Peter Pettigrew.”

 

Chase looked up at Dumbledore incredulously. “Pettigrew’s dead,” she said. “Black killed him. And my answer is no.”

 

“Black did not kill those people,” Severus said, with an expression on his face that suggested he wished anything else was true. “Pettigrew caused that explosion, trying to escape from Black. And Pettigrew is alive, in fact; you met him the other night in the graveyard, and heard his other name: Wormtail.”

 

Chase started at this. “Wait a minute. You’re telling me not only is Sirius Black not guilty of killing all those people, but that pervy little weirdo who was watching…” She swallowed a sudden rush of bile. “That - _that_ was Pettigrew?”

 

“He _what_?” Severus said, making a movement as though he wanted to reach for Chase.

 

“He was watching… Before You-Know-Who sent him to get you… He was waiting for You-Know-Who to…” Chase swallowed again and stumbled to a desk, sitting and putting her head down until the wave of nausea passed.

 

When she lifted her head again, she saw that Severus’s face was as neutral as ever, but his long fingers were flexing at his sides, as though he were itching to strangle Pettigrew.

 

Dumbledore spoke again. “I assure you, Chase, that Sirius Black harbors no ill will toward you or Severus.” (“ _Hah!_ ” Severus snorted.) “As I said, the Order is willing to hide you and Damien and keep you out of Lord Voldemort’s path, for as long as is necessary.”

 

Chase said nothing and made no motions. She was exhausted and thoroughly depressed, and at the moment, wanted nothing more than to be home at Spinner’s End, curled up in her own bed. “How long do I have to decide?”

 

“Until Saturday,” Dumbledore said. “But first, there is the winner’s ceremony tonight.”

 

“Do I have to?” Chase said.

 

“I am sorry,” Dumbledore said. “But I would recommend,” he went on, now speaking more to Severus than her, “that you go straight home afterward, if you would like. There is no need for you to stay.”

 

“As you wish,” Severus sighed.

 

XXX

 

The whole school had turned out for the awards ceremony. The stage was illuminated, and Cornelius Fudge’s voice, magically magnified, was booming out over the grounds. Severus, sitting off to the side with the Slytherins, was keeping an eye on Chase, who was sitting on Fudge’s left. He couldn’t see her face from that distance, but her posture told him how tense she was.

 

Potter, sitting on Fudge’s right, looked no less ill at ease. How Fudge was able to stand between them, Severus was quite sure he’d never know, considering how thoroughly he’d humiliated himself to both of them.

 

“Both of these students have shown, in great amounts, the very traits that our society values,” Fudge’s voice boomed out, magically magnified, over the grounds. “Courage. Ingenuity. Teamwork. Honesty. Traits, in short, that will carry them far down their chosen paths.”

 

_Like you know what courage or ingenuity looks like, never mind honesty_ , Severus thought, barely holding back a growl.

 

To Severus’s left, Filius Flitwick made a scathing noise. As the Head of Ravenclaw House, Flitwick had been informed of everything that had happened to Chase in the last three days, and he was no less sympathetic than Minerva.

 

“To Chase Carter, we award one thousand Galleons,” Fudge went on. An intern from the Ministry came forward with a bulging sack of coins. Chase reluctantly stood and walked over to the podium to collect the prize. “Over the course of the tournament, she displayed the best qualities of not only Hogwarts, but her own house, Ravenclaw.”

 

To Severus’s horror, Fudge put his arm around Chase’s shoulders. He saw her stiffen, but Fudge, like the truly brainless being he was, ignored this. Taking a quick glance at the other Heads of House, Severus saw that Pomona, Minerva, and Filius all had scandalized looks on their faces.

 

Chase let out a choked, “Thank you, Minister,” before quickly ducking under Fudge’s arm and staggering back to her seat.

 

“And to Mr. Harry Potter,” Fudge started, but Severus had stopped listening. Once again, his focus was entirely on Chase, who looked as though she was trying very hard not to be sick.

 

XXX

 

Immediately after the overlong ceremony was finished, Chase made a beeline for the apparition point just outside the grounds. She looked neither left nor right, and didn’t stop or turn her head when she heard Damien calling her name. She wanted to be alone tonight, and nowhere would she be more alone than at the house on Spinner’s End. Reaching the patch of grass where the enchantments ended, she took a breath and stepped forward into the familiar sense of compression.

 

She appeared in the alleyway near Spinner's End with a _pop!_ and strode toward the house. The street lamps on this part of Spinner’s End were mostly burnt out, except for one, buzzing with its valiant effort at staying lit. The meager light just illuminated her path to the house and up to the front door, which she tapped with her wand to unlock.

 

Once inside the house, she kept striding toward the stairs, waving her wand behind her to lock the door again. She stopped going at pace when she found herself in front of the bathroom and pushed the door open.

 

Everything inside the room was as it had always been: The claw-footed tub on the opposite wall that, in any other house, might have passed for an antique, but in this one was simply the old, cast-iron tub; the simple, white porcelain toilet right next to it; the pedestal sink in the corner with the mirror on the wall above it; the plain white tiled floor, the towel rack above the toilet. Everything in its right place, but to Chase, nothing looked right.

 

She walked to the tub and turned on the hot tap, and as the tub filled, she made her own preparations. She put her hair up in a simple bun and picked two clean towels from the linen closet, spreading one on the floor in front of the toilet and folding the other neatly on the tank. Finally, she pulled off her shirt, turned off the faucet, and knelt down in front of the toilet. She stuck her right hand into her mouth, prodding her throat with her index and middle fingers until she began retching and felt vomit forcing its way into her palm.

 

When she finished, she rested her forehead against the outside of the bowl, her throat and mouth burning and a few final tears making their way down her face. She had never forced herself to throw up before, and it hadn’t made her feel any better or less contaminated. She sat for a moment, waiting for the nausea to stop, and then stood, rinsed her hands and face, flushed the toilet, and stripped off the rest of her clothes.

 

The water in the tub was so hot that Chase gasped when she lowered herself in. Every nerve was screaming, but she refused to run the cold tap. She crouched in the tub, getting used to the heat, before she reached for a rough washcloth and a bar of soap and began scrubbing every inch of her body. She focused especially on her stomach and the inside of her thighs, where she could still feel the last vestiges of sticky, unwanted fluid. For over an hour she scrubbed, determined to wash every last trace of Lord Voldemort, the crumbling manor house, and the graveyard off of her skin.

 

By the time she was done, her normally pale skin was bright pink and raw from the hot water and being scrubbed so hard. But she still didn’t feel clean. She wondered if she would ever feel properly clean again. She wrapped the second towel around herself, wincing slightly as the rough cloth scratched against her skin and made her way to her bedroom. Once there, she pulled on a pair of pajamas, let her hair down, slipped between the sheets on her narrow bed, and closed her eyes.

 

_She was standing in the middle of a room, decorated in a pseudo-Victorian style, and everything seemed completely out of proportion, as though she were seeing its reflection in a funhouse mirror. The couch was impossibly tall, but the fireplace barely came up to her knee; considering her own average height, she laughed. But the sound was unnatural, even slightly demented, and she stopped quickly._

 

_In another room -or was it the other side of this room?- something was sobbing piteously. It sounded like a child, helpless and impossibly frightened, and Chase found herself almost pulled toward the sound._

_She noticed that the room seemed to be a circle, but with no fixed center. The sound of the crying child faded in and out, as if it were being played over an invisible radio trying to pick up a signal in the middle of nowhere. Another sound cut through it, sharp as a knife and just as distinctive: A man was screaming in unimaginable agony. “Severus!” Chase called, noting how the name echoed. It was coming from the overlarge couch she’d started at, and she cut across the room to find it._

_Once there, she found the room was normally proportioned. She’d barely had time to start wondering how it was possible, when she found herself forced onto the couch. “You may even enjoy the experience. I am told it can be quite pleasurable.”_

_“NO!” Chase screamed, standing up, only to be pulled back onto the couch, this time by heavy chains that also forced her legs apart. “No, stop! Please!”_

_“You seem to think you can stop me.” Now a large, invisible weight was pressing against her chest, and something hard was prodding at her exposed groin._

_“Stop, please!” Chase sobbed. “I don’t want this!”_

_“You have no other use to me.”_

_Chase turned her head away, and saw Severus. He had been stabbed through the neck and was hanging from a noose, his dark eyes empty and lifeless._

_“NOOO!”_

 

Chase sat bolt upright in her bed, panting and sweating, her heart clanging against her ribcage, as though she’d just run a marathon.

 

“It’s all right, Chase, you’re safe. You’re home.” A woman’s voice, soft and low-pitched, came from Chase’s left, and a pair of warm hands was pushing her gently back into a laying-down position.

 

“Severus… He’s dead… You-Know-Who killed him… After... After-”

 

The voice shushed her gently. “He’s at Hogwarts, love. Nothing’s going to happen to him.”

 

Chase turned her face to the voice, and saw her own face looking back at her, but with brown eyes, slightly wrinkled at the corners. “Mother?”

 

Rowen smiled sadly at the name. “Severus told me to come here and make sure you were okay.” She pushed Chase’s hair off her damp forehead and took her hand, frowning at the still-pink skin. “You burned yourself in the bath earlier.” There was no inflection in her voice, but Chase felt ashamed and slightly defensive.

 

“I just ran a hot bath, is all,” she muttered fiercely.

 

“I know you did,” Rowen said, still in that soothing voice. “And I know why you did. I’ve done it before, myself.”

 

Chase looked back over at her mother, propping herself up on her elbows. “When--?”

 

“It was a punishment my owner liked to use,” Rowen said, her brown eyes dulling for a moment. They returned to their normal luster after a second. “Here,” she said, pulling a small, crystal vial from her purse. “Dreamless Sleeping Potion. Severus told me to give it to you, if you were still awake.”

 

Chase nodded and took the vial. She uncorked it, but before she took a drink, she burst into tears. “Mum, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say any of those things. I just thought you left me--”

  
Again, Rowen shushed her. “Water under the bridge,” she said, her expression flickering for a moment. “Drink your potion. You don’t need any more nightmares.”


	13. Painted Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chase's decisions matter... Right?
> 
> AUTHOR'S NOTE: I apologize sincerely for the delay in posting this chapter. It was a nightmare to write; I think I went through eight or nine drafts before I landed this one. Also, life insisted on butting in. Anyway. Thank you to those who have stuck with this story, and to those who are coming back, and to those who just began reading.

**Chapter 13: Painted Black**

 

Chase winced as she woke up. Her skin was still pink and raw from her too-hot bath the night before, and even the thin cotton sheets brushing against her arms felt like sandpaper. She was sure she could brew a salve for it… Then she remembered that her potions kit was still at Hogwarts, along with her trunk. She groaned, pulling the sheet over her head.

While the Dreamless Sleeping Potion had done its job and stopped her nightmares, Chase’s mind had started racing almost as soon as she’d opened her eyes. The most pressing issue was whether she should accept Dumbledore’s offer of protection. On the one hand, she had no doubt that it was the best protection any witch or wizard could be offered, and she’d be foolish to pass it up. On the other hand, she would be required to live with Sirius Black, in the Black home. What did she know about Black, really, apart from him being her father? _Sperm donor_ , Chase corrected herself. All well and good that Black had bought her several pretty and expensive trinkets, but he’d never been involved in her life, and he’d been in Azkaban since she was a toddler. Come to think of it, Chase didn’t even know what Black looked like, apart from the mugshots that had been printed in the _Daily Prophet_ after his escape. All she knew about Sirius Black was that Severus hated him, that he’d bullied Severus when they’d been at Hogwarts together.

Did Black even want to get to know his daughter? For almost eighteen years, he’d made no effort to contact her, apart from the gifts. Had he been like Rowen, magically blocked from thinking about her? Or had Rowen chosen not to tell Black he had a child?

At that moment, Chase’s bedroom door opened. She pulled the sheet down and saw Rowen come in, carrying a tray with a plate of toast and eggs, and a mug of coffee. “Morning,” Rowen said, setting the tray down on the bedside table.

“’Lo,” Chase said, sitting up.

“Severus told me you take milk in your coffee,” Rowen continued. “It’s not too much, I hope?” She added, watching almost nervously as Chase took a sip.

“It’s great, Mum, thanks,” Chase said, setting the mug back down. She wasn’t hungry, but, not wanting to insult her mother, she took a piece of toast and nibbled a corner gingerly.

“Anything you want to talk about?” Rowen sat on the edge of the bed, watching Chase closely.

“No,” Chase said. She took another sip of coffee, then caught sight of the beautiful music box Black had sent, his first gift to her. “Yes, hang on,” she said, as Rowen stood and walked toward the door. Rowen turned around. “What’s he like? Sirius Black?”

Rowen shrugged slightly. “Azkaban wasn’t kind to him. Bone-thin and all. Looks completely different from the boy I knew.”

“That’s not what I meant—” Chase started.

“I know what you meant,” Rowen interrupted. She sighed, then went on. “If you want the truth, he was a bully. Not to me,” she added hastily, seeing the look on Chase’s face. “When he asked me out, I agreed, on the condition he’d knock off being a bully. And he did, for about five months.”

“He was your first?”

Rowen nodded. “And only, until...” Her eyes dulled again; she was clearly thinking of her eleven years as a slave.

“Never mind,” Chase said quickly. “Is it worth me living with him? If I take Dumbledore’s offer.”

Rowen sighed again. “I don’t know. I’m sure Azkaban changed him, but for better or worse, I couldn’t say.”

Chase took a bite of her eggs. After she’d swallowed, she asked, “What does he know about me?”

“Not much, and mostly by design.” Rowen paused. “He wasn’t any more ready to be a father than I was to be a mum.”

Chase pushed the rest of her breakfast tray away, not even pretending to be hungry anymore. She had two parents who barely knew anything about her. One would have been bad enough, but _two_? Once again, the bitter feeling towards Rowen rose in her again, the one that made her wish she’d stayed away.

Rowen seemed to know what Chase was thinking. “Chase, for what it’s worth, I am sorry. For all of it. You don’t know yet, but there’s something so wonderful about having a kid—”

“I’m sure there is, if you _want_ it,” Chase snapped.

“-and getting to know this person you just created,” Rowen finished calmly. “Severus has told me a lot about you.” She smiled. “By all accounts, you seem all right. Cool, even.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Well…” Rowen was grinning now. “He told me about the time you and Damien were out until dawn at a party, trying god only knows what kind of drugs, and how afterwards you bought an ounce of truly awful marijuana and tried to hide it in your desk.”

Chase couldn’t help it: She also grinned at that memory. “And did he tell you how he smoked all of it, accused me of stealing a pack of his fags to trade for it, and told me to find a better dealer?”

“I don’t think he remembers that,” Rowen said, beginning to laugh. “From the sound of it, he was pretty well baked that night. What happened after he told you that?”

“Damien and I bought another bag of weed,” Chase said, now wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. “And went to another party. I had Ecstasy there for the first time. All I remember is waking up with no shirt and paint all over my breasts. In my hair, too. Damien gave me his jacket to cover up with, and Severus didn’t let me see the outside for a month and a half after that party.”

“Like I said, kid.” Rowen ruffled Chase’s hair. “You’re all right.”

XXX

“It comes down to this,” Damien said, pacing the length of Chase’s room. “Do you trust Black or not?” He had returned from Hogwarts that morning, sending Chase’s trunk ahead of him with Flitwick’s blessing, before sending his own trunk to his house and apparating into the alley right next to Spinner’s End.

“I don’t even know him, so how can I trust him?” Chase retorted. She was unpacking her trunk, and had just felt the very bottom of it for the first time in seven years. “I’m being asked to trust a complete stranger, just because he knocked up my mother. It’s not exactly the best reason, wouldn’t you say?”

“Fair point. But Dumbledore trusts him.”

“Dumbledore trusts a lot of people,” Chase replied drily. “Like Quirrell. Or Lockhart—”

“Did he trust Lockhart? Really.” Damien stopped pacing and grinned at Chase. She ignored this.

“-A Mad-Eye Moody impersonator—"

“I’m not saying he doesn’t misplace his trust every now and again,” Damien said evenly. “But he usually has a reason to trust people. Bear in mind, he trusts your uncle, even though he was a Death Eater. How many people d’you think really do? Besides us.”

“Yeah,” Chase sighed. She’d pulled out the present from her mother she’d rejected over Christmas. Deciding that now wasn’t a great time to open it, either, she set it in a desk drawer. “But what’s Black done, besides _not_ murder thirteen people in one go, that’s so utterly trustworthy? Severus turned spy for Dumbledore.”

“Ask him.”

“Pleasant conversation, that.”

“Necessary.”

Chase looked into her trunk and, noting that the only things left were empty ink bottles, old quill stubs, and a few gobstones that had long since stopped holding her interest, she closed it. She rose and stretched, then turned to Damien. “He’s coming over later, to hear out my decision.”

“So ask him then.”

Chase sighed again, and sat down heavily on her bed. “The worst of it is, no one wants me to make my own decision.”

Damien sat next to her and put his hand over hers.

“Didn’t get a choice in getting knocked up, unless you consider knowing that You-Know-Who’s going to torture someone you love to death or madness if you don’t a ‘choice’. Didn’t get to choose if I wanted to talk to the Minister of Magic, or if I wanted to do that stupid prize ceremony. The last choice I ever had in the matter was putting my name in the Goblet of Fire.”

“I know, babe. This whole thing sucks.”

“Now, I don’t think I’ll have the choice of rejecting Dumbledore’s help.”

“Well… Did he ever say you had to take it as-is?”

Chase looked over at Damien, her eyebrows cocked.

“I mean, did he ever say it was a package deal? That you had to move in with Black in order for the protection to be offered in the first place?”

“No,” Chase said slowly. “No, he never did.” She grinned suddenly. “Are you telling me what I think you are?”

“What do you _think_ I’m telling you, Miss Carter?” Damien said, in such a good imitation of Severus that Chase couldn’t help the shriek of laughter that escaped her.

“I think you’re right: We should ask for terms and conditions.”

“What’s the worst he can say?” Damien said, in his normal voice.

“Nothing worse than I could,” Chase said grimly.

XXX

Severus closed the door behind him, shutting out the sounds from Spinner’s End, and leaned, trembling, against the frame.

The second meeting of remaining Death Eaters had been an ordeal: He’d been subjected to the Cruciatus Curse again, for telling the Dark Lord that Barty Crouch, Jr., had been Kissed, though this time had been mercifully shorter than at the Riddle House. He still felt sick and depleted, every nerve in his body singing as though it were on fire.

Suddenly feeling nauseous, he lurched into the kitchen, reaching the sink just before he started vomiting. It seemed to take forever for his body to purge, and he clung to the sink for support, breathing heavily, trembling even harder than before. When he was sure that he’d finished, he rinsed out his mouth and reached into the cabinet above the sink, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and an ashtray. He opened it and sat down at the kitchen table, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it with his wand, willing his hands to stop shaking. When they didn’t, he set the cig down carefully in the ashtray and grabbed a bottle of Ogden’s Old Firewhisky and a glass, filling it nearly to the top and draining it in one gulp. He quickly poured another.

Sitting down and taking a long drink, he picked up the cig once again, and considered the new information he had for Dumbledore. He took a drag, and another mouthful of firewhisky. The Dark Lord had already sent an envoy to the giants living abroad, and was beginning his slow takeover of the Ministry of Magic by planting lackeys in key departments. He was planning a mass breakout from Azkaban, during which he would ask the dementors to join them. Severus shuddered; he hated dementors, and had been furious when Dumbledore had agreed to host them at Hogwarts two years previously. The Dark Lord was, basically, following the same plans he’d tried to put in motion last time; whether they’d succeed now, Severus couldn’t tell.

He took another drink, noting that he was no longer trembling. Instead, a deep exhaustion was taking him over, slowly, inch by inch, though it had brought with it a pounding headache. He took another drag on the cig, and had started to breathe it out when he heard Dumbledore’s voice, calling a greeting from the living room.

Slowly, with much protest from his still-aching body, Severus stood and walked over to the fireplace, firewhisky and cigarette still in hand. Sure enough, Dumbledore’s head was sitting in the flames, gazing out serenely over the sparsely-furnished room. “You can come through, Albus,” Severus said wearily. He took a drink as the headmaster’s tall, lanky body came through.

“Rough meeting?” Dumbledore asked lightly, straightening out and siphoning ash off his robes with his wand.

Severus glowered at him. “If I wasn’t _absolutely_ sure that my contributions to the Order are appreciated,” he growled, “I could walk out and never give either side a second thought.”

“Could you?” Dumbledore was still speaking in that light tone, but Severus felt the words cut to his core.

He sighed and took another drink. “She’s upstairs. Shall I get her?”

“First, tell me about this meeting.”

“All of his plans from last time, more or less. He seems content to pull the strings this time, rather than being directly involved. He’s using Lucius Malfoy as his main point of contact at the Ministry.” He took another drink. “He’s also sent Macnair as his envoy to the giants. Is there any way to warn Hagrid and Maxime?”

“Sadly, no. They are being trailed by Aurors; the last I heard, they’re going to try to lose them in France, then set off for the giants’ community.”

Severus sighed and looked into his now empty glass of firewhisky. “I’ll get Chase. In the meantime, make yourself at home. Firewhisky?” He indicated the glass.

“That would be lovely, thank you,” Dumbledore said, turning his attention to the large collection of leather-bound books on the mantelpiece.

Severus went back into the kitchen, stubbed out the cig, and poured out the firewhisky for himself and Dumbledore. Then, with a brief pause to hand Dumbledore his drink, he headed upstairs. In a moment, he was standing at the entrance to Chase’s room, where she and Damien were sitting on the bed, backs to him. He cleared his throat. “The headmaster is here,” he said when they turned around.

Chase nodded and, with a grimace at Damien, stood. “Bad meeting,” she said, looking at the whisky glass in Severus’s hand.

“How very observant,” he sneered. “Get downstairs, both of you.”

“Fuck off, I’m not the one who did whatever happened to you,” Chase snapped as she brushed past him. Damien walked past with a slightly apologetic look. Severus followed them downstairs, biting back the retorts he was sure Chase had coming.

Dumbledore rose to greet them. “Chase, Damien. What a pleasure to see you.”

“And you,” Chase said, and Severus heard an unusual formality in her voice. “The summer’s going well for you?”

“The last two days of it have gone as well as I could hope,” Dumbledore said, smiling slightly.

Chase took a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking about your proposal, Professor Dumbledore, and I have some questions.”

“Go on?”

“Well…” Severus saw her look over to Damien, who took her hand and squeezed it encouragingly. “I hardly know anything about Sirius Black, and quite frankly, what I do know about him doesn’t make me think living with him is a brilliant idea.”

Dumbledore merely raised his eyebrows.

“What I mean is,” Chase continued, doggedly but still formal, “I don’t think that the slight claim he has on me -being my biological father and all- is enough reason for me to trust him.”

“Nor do I,” Dumbledore said. “But that is not why he has offered you and Damien houseroom. The Black home has concealment charms and enchantments on it that make it all but invisible to both Muggles and wizards, and I am the Order’s Secret-Keeper. Sirius believes, as do I, that his house is the safest and best hiding place we can provide.” He looked over to Severus. “Would I be correct in assuming that Lord Voldemort may attempt to hold Chase as his prisoner at some point?”

“Perhaps,” Severus said, realizing suddenly that the Dark Lord had made no mention of Chase since that night in the graveyard. He made a note to ask about his plans for her after the next Death Eater meeting, privately. “It would not be an unreasonable assumption, at any rate.”

Chase was looking over at Severus as well. “So, what do you think?”

“Why is that important?” He took a drink of whisky.

“You’re our man on the inside. What do you think You-Know-Who wants with me? Apart from the hellspawn.”

“I don’t know. But I would rather have you well out of his way, especially in your condition.”

“I’m fine, Severus,” Chase said in exasperation. “I can duel—”

“For now,” Severus said sharply. “The curse the Dark Lord placed on you is unique; there is every chance he is testing it out on you. As your pregnancy progresses, you could become incapable of defending yourself.”

“I’m not pregnant yet,” Chase growled. “And what makes you think pregnancy makes a witch incapable of dueling?”

“He makes a valid point,” Dumbledore interrupted. “There are laws against practicing experimental spells on another person, and the one Lord Voldemort put on you is unlike anything I have ever heard of before. There is no doubt in my mind that he created it specifically to use on the witch he chose to carry on Slytherin’s bloodline. As such, we can’t tell how it will affect you. It may have little or no effect. It may make you too ill or too weak to defend yourself, or, in the worst case, it might kill you.”

Severus saw Chase’s expression close. She walked slowly into the kitchen, then slowly back, her chin in her hand the whole time. Finally, she stopped and turned to Dumbledore, looking him directly in the eye.

“I want to meet Black first. In a neutral setting. Not his house, and not here.”

“That will be difficult to arrange,” Dumbledore said. “Remember, the four of us in this room are among the small handful of people who know Sirius to be innocent. The rest of our world believes him a mass murderer, and insane to boot.”

“How about your office, tomorrow night?”

Severus stepped forward. “I want to be there, too.”

“No,” Chase said sharply. “I don’t need you and Black fighting while I’m trying to figure out what I should do.”

Dumbledore looked hard at Chase. “Very well. Tomorrow, you and Sirius Black will meet in my office. _Without_ Severus, Damien, or myself present. What say you?”

“That’s fine,” Chase said. From the shift in her expression, Severus guessed that this was a better arrangement than she’d hoped for. Still, he thought as he drained his glass, he would have felt better if she’d allowed him to be there.

XXX

Chase stood in the middle of Dumbledore’s office, looking around at the portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses. While waiting for her meeting with Sirius Black to begin, she passed the time by taking count of past heads’ Houses. So far, they ran mostly to Gryffindors, with Ravenclaws a distant second, five Slytherins, and one Hufflepuff.

The door opened, and a large, shaggy black dog walked into the office. Chase had been prepared for this; Dumbledore had informed her of Sirius’s Animagus form. “Hello, Sirius,” she said cautiously.

The dog looked up at her, then transformed. Close to, Chase could see that Black must have been stunningly handsome when Rowen knew him: His deep-set, hooded eyes and vestiges of chiseled features had almost survived his stint in Azkaban.

At the moment, Black was simply gaping at her, taking in every part of her appearance. Chase wasn’t bothered; after all, he’d never seen her before, either. She could only imagine what must be going through his mind, looking at his daughter for the first time ever. Finally, he spoke. “You look just like your mother.”

Chase smiled slightly. She couldn’t think of any reply.

“What’s Dumbledore told you about me?”

“Only that you didn’t kill thirteen people,” Chase said. “And your Animagus form.”

Black rubbed a hand over his unshaven face. “And Snape?”

Chase pulled a face. “Do you want the right answer, or the honest one?”

Black smiled grimly at this. “That’s what I thought. Well, might as well give you the abbreviated version.”

They both sat down, looking at each other steadily. Chase was reminded strongly of a similar meeting, when she was six years old. The first time she’d really met Severus…

“Look, Snape isn’t entirely wrong about what I did to him at school,” Black began. “But understand, he never missed an opportunity to hex my best friend, and he was so fascinated with the Dark Arts, I really couldn’t help—”

“Bear in mind, Sirius,” Chase said sharply. “Severus Snape may be an unlikeable bastard with the attitude of a bear just out of hibernation, _but_ he’s fed, clothed, sheltered, and provided for me since I was six years old.” She just barely stopped herself from adding, “Whereas _you_ never even bothered to pick up a fucking quill.”

Black stiffened, and Chase was sure he’d picked up on her unspoken bitter thoughts. “All Rowen told me was that she was pregnant,” he said. “Until about three months ago, I didn’t even know if I had a son or a daughter. And, I’ll be honest, you weren’t much on my mind then.”

“Oh?” Chase cocked her eyebrow; from the fleeting expression that crossed Black’s face, Chase was sure it had been an effective reminder of her Snape heritage.

“Did I mention who that best friend was, earlier?”

“No.”

“James Potter.”

“Then you’re Harry’s godfather, I presume?”

“Yes. I swore to James I’d protect him if anything happened to him and Lily. And he was in danger; Peter Pettigrew was at Hogwarts, in disguise as his friend Ron’s rat.” Black gave her a pleading look.

Chase said nothing, but shuddered violently. She’d never heard of someone being as thoroughly creepy as Pettigrew.

“But once Pettigrew had left and Harry was safe, I started thinking about Rowen again. I tried getting in touch with her, but none of my owls could find her.”

“Those gifts...”

“I sent them as a blind,” Black admitted. “One to Hogwarts, one to Manchester. They were the places you were most likely to be. I had the owls deliver them to ‘Snape niece or nephew’.”

“How did you figure out who I was?”

In response, Black pulled a yellowed newspaper from a pocket inside his robes and held it out to her. It was from early November of 1994, and it had the picture of all four Triwizard Champions. Chase hadn’t gotten a mention, in spite of being a Hogwarts champion. “As soon as I saw the picture,” he said, pointing to it, “I had a hunch: The other Hogwarts champion looked exactly like Rowen. In March, Harry and two of his friends came to visit me. I asked who the other champion was, and they told me who you were and what your name was.”

Chase thought about this. Most of it made sense, but… “How did you know I was in Ravenclaw before you saw that paper?”

“I didn’t. Your mother was in Ravenclaw, remember? I thought it might remind you of her. Of course,” he added, noting the incredulous expression on Chase’s face, “that was before I knew she’d dumped you off with Snape.”

“She didn’t ‘dump me off’ with him,” Chase snapped. Whatever her bitter feelings toward Rowen, she valued the truth. “And I’m not going to tell you what happened. If you want to know, ask her. And again, in spite of his litany of shortcomings, Severus did a better job raising me than either her or you.”

Black was clearly angry now, but when he spoke again, Chase couldn’t help but admire his restraint. “I offered you and your boyfriend a room in my house because, whatever else has gone on, you are my daughter, and I have a responsibility to take care of you.”

 _Which you only took eighteen years to take up, but, you know, thanks_ , Chase thought.

“If Rowen had let me, I would have been there for you from the start, but she didn’t. So you’re just going to have to make do with me being here for you now.”

Chase leaned back in her chair, tracing her mouth with her fingertip, thinking. After a few minutes, she said, “All right. Let’s say Damien and I move into your house. What protection can you offer us that we couldn’t put on our own place? Or that isn’t on Spinner’s End?”

“Spinner’s End isn’t Unplottable,” Black said immediately. “And as far as I know, it has no concealment charms on it at all. I don’t think it can; it’s hard to hide a row house. And you don’t have a Secret-Keeper to hide its location. As for you and Damien getting your own place, do you have any idea how much that will cost?”

“Fair enough,” Chase conceded.

“And I can pay for everything,” Black said. “I’m the last living member of the Black family; I’ve got more gold than I can spend. Midwife, crib, blankets, clothes. Anything you need, just tell me, and I’ll make sure you have it.”

“That’s kind of you,” Chase said, and she meant it. She stood up and offered her hand to Black. “I have to discuss this with Damien. Thanks for your time.”

Black looked taken aback, but also stood and shook Chase’s hand. Then he left, changing into the great, shaggy black dog again. Chase sighed, then turned to the fireplace and threw a pinch of Floo Powder into it. When the green flames appeared, she stepped into them, yelling, “Spinner’s End!”

Once there, she stepped out of the fireplace and headed for the kitchen, siphoning soot off her robes. She had a feeling the one person she really wanted to talk to would be waiting there for her.

“There’s tea on the stove,” he said from his seat at the kitchen table. Chase nodded and went to the cupboard. As she pulled down a cup, he asked, “Well?”

“You have nothing to be afraid of,” Chase said, pouring tea into a pretty blue cup. “But this isn’t about you, is it.”

Severus sat forward slightly. “No. It isn’t.”

Chase sat down across from him. “I am not spending nine months in his house.”

“Then stay here.”

Chase blinked. “Come again?”

Severus gave her a slight sneer, but she could tell his heart wasn’t in it. “I will not throw you out, not in your condition and with nowhere else to go. I’m not my father.”

“And the protections on this house?”

Severus smiled grimly. “No respectable Death Eater would be caught dead coming to a Muggle neighborhood like this.”

Chase took a drink of her tea. For the first time in almost a week, she was beginning to see a small, distant glimmer of hope.


End file.
